The LOVE that Bleached FIRE and ICE
by the-lionness
Summary: An arranged marriage made at birth and a Japan in turmoil finds Toshirou and Karin married to each other. But maybe this might be a good thing...maybe it is possibly love. AU THxKK and other pairings.
1. The KICKING GIRL and GREEN EYED BOY

**I just want to give a shout-out to GrnEydDvl and her fanfic "On the Wrong Foot." She really inspired me to write this fanfic! Thank you!**

**The LOVE that bleached FIRE and ICE**

_An arrangement made at birth finds Karin and Toshiro married to one another. But maybe this might possibly be a good thing…and maybe this might possibly be love. AU KKxTH slight MHxSA_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach._

_AU Warning: Characters can and will appear OOC._

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**Terminology:**

**Black Ships: **Term coined by Japanese to describe the appearance of the American naval officer Commodore Matthew C. Perry's ships in June 1853. Because of the smoke coming from the steamships, they were dubbed "black ships."

**Daimyo:** A feudal lord of Japan who was a large landowner.

**Kushi-dango: **Sweet skewered dumplings.

**Sokaku: **Was the foreign relations policy of Japan under which no foreigner could enter or Japanese could leave the country on penalty of death. Violated in June 1853 when Perry arrived in the port of Nagasaki with his ships.

**Wataboshi: **The veil to a wedding kimono. (I actually made Karin's larger; regular wataboshi cover everything except the bride's face.)

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* * *

_

_My hate of you burns._

_The fire of me threatens_

_to melt your cool soul._

**The KICKING GIRL and the GREEN EYED BOY**

"What is this?" Karin asked. Her voice was barely above a whisper—a dangerous sign.

"Wh-wha-what do you mean?" Isshin Kurosaki nervously asked. He saw the angry, fiery glint in her eyes. He had every reason to be fearful of his eighteen-year-old daughter right now.

"I mean," Karin's foot suddenly slammed against her father's shin, "_what is this?_" She pointed to the two visitors, a boy and girl with sewing kits, standing at the clinic's door.

"Karin…chan," Isshin slowly picked himself from off the ground. His hand gingerly covered his leg; he was going to have one large bruise later. "You remember Michiru Ogawa-chan and Mizuiro Kojima-kun. They went to the same school as Ichigo and work at Uryu Ishida-san's shop—"

"No! What are they doing here? _Again?_ What's going on?" Karin knew her father was up to something. For the past week, he had been sneaking around, leaving the clinic at weird points of the day and speaking in hushed voices with certain visitors whenever she was around. It wasn't hard for her to figure out it had something to do with her; she was the only child still living in the house.

And she was going to get to the bottom of it.

Today.

Isshin sighed. There was no use in hiding it anymore. He put his hands on her shoulders, gripping the material of her gourd-patterned yukata. "Karin, when you were born, your mother and I arranged a marriage for—"

"What?"

"It was to the son of a friend of your mother's. We haven't spoken to them in years. I sent a letter to the family about a month and a half ago and received one back last week. The young man, Toshirou Hitsugaya's, parents have long since died, but he has agreed to the arrangement."

Karin threw his hands off. "You're joking, right?" Her dark eyes flashed to the guests before zeroing in on her dad; all three jumped at the look. "Why do _I_ have to have an arranged marriage? Ichi-nii and Yuzu didn't!" Her older brother and younger twin had been married long ago. About a few years back, Ichigo had married Rukia Kuchiki of the Kuchiki Clan and Yuzu to Jinta, the son of her dad's best friend, Kisuke Urahara, last spring.

"Ichigo did have an arranged marriage to another girl, Orihime Inoue, but her brother canceled it when another suitor offered a larger dowry. And your mother and I did not know we were having twins until you and Yuzu were born. We wanted to arrange one for her, but we never did." He put his hands on her shoulders once again and gripped them carefully; Karin shook underneath his touch. "Right now, having you be married would not be such a bad thing."

He was referring to the rumors that had been circulating through Karakura in the last few weeks. According to the papers, black ships had landed in Nagasaki Harbor with men and weapons no one in Japan had seen before. The leader of the men had made it to Kurihama and supposedly had threatened the emperor's life...at least that's what people were saying. Everyone was on edge; no one had ever violated the _sakoku_ before and lived or returned to Japan to tell about it. And the daimyo, Genryusai Shigekuni Yamamoto, wasn't saying anything to anybody.

When Karin had first heard about it, she blew it off. Nagasaki was a long way from Karakura and everything going around was hearsay. But now, as she had realized that a bunch of ships were one of the causes to her problems, she was beginning to think about going to Nagasaki herself. She would drive them all away bare-handed.

Even _if_ that was possible, she wasn't sure exactly _how_ to go about it—not when everyone seemed too scared about what was happening.

Luckily, her anger was more potent than her fear. "When?" She looked up at her father, her face in a scowl. Her father noticed an unfamiliar glassy appearance to her eyes and hesitated a little bit.

"Two days. The marriage will take place on his estate in the Seriteri District, the thirteenth junction. Your things will be sent there tomorrow—"

If, Karin realized, she kicked her father in the shin any harder, she'd break her own toe. "You were going to tell me all of this tomorrow, weren't you?" She was beyond angry; a word hadn't been made yet for how _angry _she felt. If she stayed there any longer, she was going to lose it; the whole place was going to come down in her fury.

As quickly as she could, she ran through the house searching for her pair of sandals and her longtime companion, her ball. She raced out the house to the streets outside, but not before flashing those two tailors the dirtiest look she could muster under such circumstances.

Isshin watched them jump again at her furious glance and sighed. He slowly picked himself up and walked to the large picture of his wife hanging on the wall. Clad in her own wedding kimono, she looked down at him with kind, brown eyes.

"Masaki," he touched the picture somberly and sighed again, "I'm sorry. I didn't…handle that very well."

* * *

"Hitsugaya-sama! _Hitsugaya-sama!_" The voice calling out to him was louder this time. Toshirou's eyes finally focused on the hand waving fiercely inches from his face. His cold, green eyes dragged over to the beautiful face of his assistant, Rangiku Matsumoto.

"_What_, Matsumoto?" His voice was colder and harsher than he intended it to be. "Have we made it yet?" He looked over the shoulder of the man pulling their carriage on the paved street past shops, teahouses, and street vendors.

"No, not yet. I was trying to ask if you're okay." Matsumoto's icy blue eyes looked over at him with concern.

He looked away, already detaching himself from the conversation. "I guess." At this time, the streets of Karakura were heavy with the onset of people, all shopping and moving about the congested street. The hot sun bore down on him, annoying him ever so slightly.

He was getting married in two days—worse than that, to some girl he didn't even know. About a month ago, he had received a letter from a local doctor, Isshin Kurosaki. His name was a little familiar; Toshirou vaguely remembered his mother talking about a friend who went by the same last name when he was little. The letter had brought his attention to an arranged marriage made at his birth to his eldest daughter, Karin Kurosaki.

Its news was definitely a surprise to him.

An unwelcome one.

It all seemed surreal, but true to word, when he began looking, the papers were found. No one had ever told him about it, but he supposed that in the years after the deaths of his parents and grandmother, it had probably been forgotten by everyone. Even Matsumoto, the Empress of Gossip, couldn't remember hearing anything about it.

Toshirou had brooded for weeks, trying to put his thoughts together, but about a week ago he had come to a decision. A letter had been quickly sent back accepting the proposal with promise to handle the finances for the entire ceremony.

And now her things were arriving tomorrow.

He gritted his teeth. No matter how cavalier he was trying to be, the thought of someone suddenly invading his space bothered him. This Kurosaki girl was a complete stranger and though he could only remember the positive things her mother had said about the family, he wasn't looking forward to being around a bratty, teenaged _kid_. It didn't matter that the letter said they were the same age; a kid was a kid.

The only reason he could come up for still going through with this was his parents. If nothing else, he would honor their decision.

He squinted against the hard glare of the sun. "What else is left, Matsumoto?"

"Not much. Ishida-san promises your kimono will be done and sent to you tomorrow morning and the chairs and tables will be arriving as well. The cooks are preparing the food and the courtyard is being set up for the ceremony. The priest and the Kurosaki party are arriving the morning of the wedding. And the room you requested is being cleared to make space for her things. Everything is already taken care of!" The happy look on her face dimmed in lieu of his dark one.

_Everything's already ready for her?_

"Ta-i-cho," It was a nickname and tone Matsumoto only used when she wanted to get on Hitsugaya's good side. "Do you want to take a break? We can be a little late for this next errand. We could get some kushi-dango!"

He shook his head. "No, Matsumoto." He tapped the carrier's shoulder. "Stop here!" The man complied and soon Hitsugaya was getting down. He looked up at Matsumoto's confused face. "I want to take a walk. I'll head back to the estate later. Go get some dumplings if you want—but no sake!" He tapped the man's shoulder again and watched the carriage pull off in its slow start.

"But, Hitsugaya-sama!" Matsumoto called. But Toshirou was already walking away.

Karin kicked her ball, careful not to bump into anything or anyone milling about in the streets. With her fluid movement around the groups of people walking in and out of shops and stores, she was a spark of wildfire through a field of couples, little kids, dogs, and street venders. Sweat fell down her brow in trickles. She veered her course towards the small, wooden bridge.

She still hadn't returned home. This was taking longer than her usual three hours; she was still mad. Right now, being outside with her ball was the only reason why she hadn't gone back home and beaten her father until he couldn't walk anymore. The imaginary face on her ball kept switching from her dad to her mystery fiancé (his was more a crude drawing of a face than a legitimate person) and back again.

How could she be _married_? How could she be somebody's _wife_? Marriage was the last thing on her mind. Her friends in the neighborhood were all boys, but she had never even had a crush on any of them. None. She couldn't be like Yuzu: she hated cooking; her sewing was atrocious; and despite the several lessons she had sat through, she was still waiting to be convinced of the importance of flower arrangements and tea ceremonies. Was that what men really looked for in their wives?

Even as she thought that having an arranged marriage meant that she probably didn't have to know those things to be courted, the thought of being trapped with a guy—probably a fat, sleazy, pompous, money-grubbing guy—made her angry all over again.

Her foot connected with the ball too hard and it bounced away from her, under the rail of the bridge and into the creek below. She watched as it fell into the water and began to float away from her.

"No, no, NO!" Karin raced through the crowd to the bridge's rail and watched as her ball went farther and farther away from her. _It's too late to get it now._ She fell to her knees and leaned on the rail. Her forehead felt warm as she pressed it on her arm. She hadn't cried since she was four, but today was starting to look more and more like a good time to start the habit.

_How could today get any worse?_

"What's wrong?" She looked up to see a boy not much older than her with spiky, snow-white hair looking down at her. He was holding a cone of green shaved ice in his hand.

She wasn't aware that he had been behind her; it took her aback a bit. "My ball…" she pointed to the object cruising in the water. He glanced at it and her for a second before putting the cone into her hand and running down the bridge and along the creek. He ran in smooth, comfortable strides, his hair being the only thing that helped her track him amongst the men fishing and the clusters of laughing kids playing with their toy boats on the edge.

Toshirou finally reached a clear spot where he could make a clean grab for the ball, lying on the ground with the effort. He was stalling; he was supposed to be making his way back to the estate. But he didn't try to think about it too much; this was as much distraction as he needed from not thinking about his mystery wife.

His fingertips brushed the ball but as he tried to roll it towards him, it slipped from his grasp. It continued going on its course down the creek; there was no way he could get it back now. He stood and made his way back to the girl on the bridge empty-handed.

"I was close…"

"It's okay. Thanks for trying." Karin looked at the boy. He wasn't much taller than her, maybe five-nine, still short for a boy. From the look of him and his impromptu run, she could tell that he spent some of his time outside. He stared back at her with sea-green eyes, watching as she picked herself from off the ground.

"Do you have another at home?" He asked, brushing off his kimono. With its silver-gray color and his white hair, he looked like an icicle in the summer heat.

"No," she handed the stranger back his cone, "that was my only one. And I _really _needed it today." She trailed off and he fell silent as she mourned its loss.

"Here." He was holding her wrist and pressing something in her palm with cold and wet fingers. In her hand were coins, enough for her to buy a shaved ice cone of her own.

"No, no, I can't accept this. You don't have to give me money."

His voice was now a bit standoffish. "Take it. I don't need it." He gave her one more look before going down the bridge again. "Ja ne." She wanted to run after him, but there was no reason for her to follow. So she just watched him submerge into the crowd.

"Thank you." She doubted if he had heard her. Her lips curved into her first smile of the day before glancing down at the coins before clenching them in her hand. Reality was weighing down on her head again: she had lost her only ball and was getting married in two days. She really didn't have a reason to be on the bridge talking to boys she didn't know anymore.

_I might as well go home._ She began her sojourn back, coins still in hand.

* * *

"Karrrrin," a happy voice pierced through her dreams. Her futon was sunk with the weight of someone else and a hand was gently shaking her awake. Karin's eyes opened to see her twin staring at her, looking very angelic in a lemon-pink kimono and sunflowers in her hair.

Karin uncurled her body from its fetal position. She hadn't really moved from that spot in a day. "Yuzu? What are you doing here?" She allowed her twin to hug her tightly.

"Me and Ichi-nii came here for your wedding! I am soo excited for you!" She pulled back to look at her fraternal twin.

Karin and Yuzu couldn't have been any more different than night and day. At age eighteen, the only thing they still had in common apart from being related was their height, five-seven. Yuzu looks were definitely from their mother: light-brown, shoulder-length hair; glowing skin; wide, brown eyes; and the same pouty lips and round cheeks. Even her chest was bigger.

Karin, on the other hand, took more after her father: she had the same onyx-colored, almond-shaped eyes, and high cheekbones. Her mouth was smaller though, the bottom lip a bit fuller than the top. Her skin was a bit darker from the days she spent outside in the sun. Though always called a pretty girl by her father's patients, she felt the only remotely feminine thing about her was her back-length, jet-black hair.

Her twin grinned excitedly. "You must be so happy!"

She didn't have the heart to break the news to her obviously bubbly, romantically-minded younger sister. Karin looked over at the corner of her room she'd spent yesterday avoiding, the one where her white wedding kimono and wataboshi stood. It had arrived the day before and had been glaring at her menacingly. Karin gave it a dirty look. "Wait—Ichi-nii is here?" Karin rose from her bed and ran out, ignoring the confused look on her twin's face.

Her hurried footsteps took her to the kitchen where she heard voices coming from. The place was packed as she saw her father and Jinta sitting at the table over their breakfast. But her eyes immediately went to her older brother and sister-in-law. He stood at once and enveloped her in a hug.

"Hey, Karin," he stared down at her with his amber-colored eyes. "Did you just wake up? I thought Yuzu went up to get you ready."

She basked in his warmth. "What are you doing here?"

"We couldn't miss your wedding, could we?" Rukia asked, careful not to pin her stomach against Karin as she hugged her. Rukia, Karin's pixie-like sister-in-law, was six months along; in a few months she was going to be a mother. Karin grinned at her, her worries momentarily dissipated.

"I wish you guys weren't coming just because I'm getting married."

"Yeah. We might've had time to play ball. Do you still have it?" She shook her head sadly. "Oh. But hey, since you'll be in Sereiteri now, you'll be closer; we can play at the Kuchiki Manor."

She shrugged. After today when her fate was sealed, she doubted that was going to happen.

"Oi, oi! Time now to get Karin moving; we have a wedding to get to." Jinta said from his seat at the table.

"Yes! With my lovely daughter-in-law Rukia-chan giving birth to my idiot son's first child, and my eldest daughter getting married, I am the happiest—"

Karin hit her dad hard before going back upstairs where Yuzu was definitely waiting for her. "Shut up."

* * *

Because her wataboshi was so big and covered her entire face, she never saw the trip to Sereiteri—just felt the carriage continuously going and stopping for the hour and a half as it went through the streets. All she could see was white; it was like being in a prison chamber. The carriage stopped for good this time, and she allowed someone to guide her out.

"Ooh, it's pretty!"

"Impressive."

"Yes it is! My Karin will be taken care of very well here!"

"Oi, Rukia, don't move too fast. You can't move like that any—Oi! Don't hit me!"

Karin lifted her veil and spied out. In front of her was an iron-wrought fence that stretched a quarter-way down the block. Behind that was a large house. She could only see the top floor, but she still stared in awe at the gray roof shingles and sparkling windows gleaming down at her. She looked at the formidable front gate. A large stone dragon stood at its side, coiled and ready to attack; on the other side was a large leaping stone fish. She read the sign at the top of the gate: "10-Ugendo."

"Hello! You're here!" A happy, sing-song voice greeted them all. From the other side, a tall and beautiful woman was bounding towards them and waving. As she opened the gate, Karin noted the lady's expensive sky-blue, lily-patterned kimono. "I am Rangiku Matsumoto. Please call me 'Matsumoto.' I handle all the affairs of the Ugendo Estate." She grinned genteelly at the salutations and Isshin's request for her to look after his eldest daughter.

The dark-eyed bride eyed the lovely Matsumoto's strawberry-blonde hair and her exposed buxom chest. "I'm Karin."

"You're her!" Matsumoto bowed deeply. "Welcome, Karin Kurosaki-san. I'm very excited to meet you. Everyone is already here and waiting for you. If you could please follow me, I'll be happy to guide you to the back." Karin donned the veil again and obligingly waited to be led.

Hitsugaya stood in his wedding hakama, trying to adjust the family crest on his kimono. Things were momentarily delayed and time was running out to do what he really wanted: to talk to this Kurosaki girl. He didn't know what he was going to say, just that every bone in his body wanted him to say something before it was too late. Regardless if she was a spoiled brat or a kid, he needed to talk to her before they were…stuck together.

"Hitsugaya-sama! She's here!" He and the congregation looked up to see Matsumoto leading a procession behind her. A priest stood at the front in his white and red hakama, two attendants flanking each side. Two tall men followed and further back, a girl with light-brown hair and a pink sunflower-patterned kimono did the same. A sparse group of people followed behind her and a large red umbrella loomed overhead.

Toshirou saw the girl holding the hand of another unseen person. That was probably his bride, but he couldn't see past the much taller men.

"Hitsugaya-dono," he looked over to the head priest, "now that the bride is here, we can begin."

He sighed. It couldn't be helped. "Fine. Please feel free to begin."

The wedding was lost to Karin. She wasn't allowed to lift her veil, so everything was just…bleached to her, save a few snatches of words here and there. The groom, whoever he was, stood beside her, stock-still. They weren't supposed to speak until the very end.

In what seemed very far away, she could hear two people crying: the first voice was her sister's, but the second's was lost on her.

_Aren't I supposed to be the one crying?_ In two days, she had lost all of her freedom to a stupid arranged married made before she was born and created because she _was_ born first. And now, her own family was sending her off to her death.

She blinked a couple of times. Nothing.

"Toshirou Hitsugaya-dono," the priest brought her attention back to the end of her life as she knew it, "do you take Karin Kurosaki-sama as your wife?"

There was a pregnant pause. "Yes." He finally answered.

"Karin Kurosaki-sama, do you take Toshirou Hitsugaya-dono as your husband?"

She sighed. "Yes."

"May Kami bless your marriage. I pronounce you man and wife." They bowed.

Toshirou turned to his new wife and lifted her wataboshi revealing the sharp chin, lips, a nose, and two angry, black eyes. He was staring into the face of the girl from two days ago on the bridge. The one with the lost ball. "You? You're her?" She was the last girl he expected to see, let alone be married to. When he had walked away from her that evening, he had written her off as a stranger; it would have been improper to stay with or think about her when he was getting married.

But...

But now…

Karin was seething. It was like the entire world was playing a dirty joke on her. This boy, _Toshirou Hitsugaya_, had met her and hadn't said anything about being married to her at all. All this time she had imagined he was some lazy, fat drunkard. But now she was seeing him for what he really was—a liar.

All the carefully-shelved anger bubbled up inside her, white-hot and terrible. Red spread across her face like a scorch mark.

"I can't believe you! Asshole!" And to the shocked newlywed husband and wedding guests, Karin's fist went in for a sucker punch.

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_A/N: This is my second fanfic and my first for __Bleach__. I really enjoyed writing it; it is hands-down the longest chapter I've ever written. But I loved episode 132 and am really excited to do a THxKK fanfic. I wanted to add a few other characters in passing; Tite Kubo has so many that there's virtually no need to add in some extras. I'm excited to hear what you think so please put me on Story/Author Alert and R&R. And if you haven't read "On the Wrong Foot" please do so. I hope that this is something you all will really enjoy. Thank you and see you in the next chapter. _


	2. The UGENDO SHOWDOWN

**The LOVE that bleached FIRE and ICE**

_An arrangement made at birth finds Karin and Toshiro married to one another. But maybe this might possibly be a good thing…and maybe this might possibly be love. AU KKxTH slight MHxSA_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach._

_AU Warning: Characters can and will appear OOC._

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**Terminology:**

**Bonsai Tree: **An art of aesthetic miniaturization of trees, or of developing woody or semi-woody plants shaped as trees, by growing them in containers. In the omake chapters, Ukitake is shown chopping them badly.

**Chrysanthemums, Daffodils, Summer Snowflakes:**The flowers of the Gotei 13's 1st, 10th, and 13th Squads.

**Haircombs and hairsticks: **Various Japanese hair ornaments used in the Edo Period.

**Han: **Or _domains_, were created by Toyotomi Hideyoshi and where the fiefs of feudal lords of Japan ruled. Han existed until their abolition in 1871.

**Ofuku:** A hairstyle worn by maiko, apprentice geisha. It is very elaborate with cloth, bows, hairsticks and other ornaments.

**Shamisen, koto, shakuhachi: **Various Japanese instruments. _Shamisen_, a 3-stringed instrument; _koto_, a 13-stringed zither; _shakuhachi_, a Japanese flute.

**Zori: **Are flat and thonged Japanese sandals made of rice straw or other plant fibers, cloth, lacquered wood, leather, and/or rubber; strongly resemble flip flops.

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_My cool indifference_

_leaves you to your thoughts and feelings._

_I do not want you._

**The UGENDO SHOWDOWN**

She'd given him one very fat lip.

"Hold still, Hitsugaya-sama!" Matsumoto pressed a cold cloth on his mouth to reduce the swelling. If she wasn't already so observant of him, she would've missed the slight flinch he made at feeling the cold pressure on his bruise. A frown etched across her face; a nickel-sized patch of blood was already staining the damp cloth. "It's bad, but I don't think you'll need stitches." She could only imagine what it was going to look like in the morning.

The courtyard was still absorbed in the merriment of the reception and active movement of the wedding attendants. The food and drinks were being brought out and eaten in between conversation. And some were even dancing to the music of the shamisens, kotos, and shakuhachi. At first glance, everything at the candle-lit reception was perfect.

But everyone's eyes kept flashing over to the table where Hitsugaya sat stone-cold and alone without his new wife.

Toshirou finally took the cloth and pressed it to his lip. He glared at his assistant. "What the hell is her problem?"

She shrugged. Whatever answer she was about to give was cut off by a figure running up to them through the crowd.

"Shiro-chan!" A black-haired girl ran up to their table and fell to her knees in a panic. Her hands gently but fervently gripped the sides of his face. Her eyes slowly became the size of plates at the appearance of the lower half of his mouth. "Your lip is…" She faltered. "Are you okay?"

He pried himself from his older cousin's touch. "I'm _fine_, Momo." He coldly assured her.

She looked up at Matsumoto in worry; just the fact he hadn't gotten mad at her for calling him "Shiro-chan" was enough to convince her otherwise.

Matsumoto shrugged again.

The girl turned back towards him again. "Well, w-here…did she go?" It was as if she had vanished in the chaos that occurred after her spectacle.

"Why the hell do I care?" He snapped. His exclamation attracted the attention of a few eavesdropping guests.

Both women exchanged furtive glances. _This _was off to a bad start.

* * *

"Karin, what were you thinking?" Ichigo hotly asked. The entire Kurosaki family had moved towards the front gates soon after the incident. The general consensus among the family was that distance needed to be made between the two of them—and fast. They had all but dragged her away from the fight. Now, they all stood around the entrance, under the lanterns strung overhead. Five pairs of eyes zeroed in on the irate newlywed.

"Ichigo, calm down," Rukia said, her violet eyes meeting with his brown ones. Her hand was rubbing her stomach where the baby was kicking. No matter how often it was happening now, she was still not used to the feeling. "She has to have some reason for…doing what she did."

Jinta quietly watched the exchange, scoffing at the spectacle. He clearly had a few ideas of his own, but was smart enough to keep them to himself.

"Karin," Yuzu asked now, "why did you hit Toshirou-kun?" She knowingly asked the question without using her brother's accusing tone. Out of all of them, Yuzu knew Karin the best; if anyone was going to get answers, it was going to be her.

Karin finally stopped her pacing, the oranges, reds, and yellows of the lanterns casting her kimono in the colors of a glowing ember. "I hit him because he lied to me!"

Jinta scoffed again. Karin's eyes dangerously narrowed in on him.

"How?" Yuzu asked.

"Yeah, how? You only met him today!" Ichigo piped up and was promptly smacked by his wife.

"I met him before today." Her hands furiously yanked out the haircombs and hairsticks that had been placed in her hair. Flyaway strands pulled themselves out of her buns and fell, giving her a frazzled appearance. _No use in trying to look pretty anymore. _"Two days ago, he and I met at this…place. We spoke to each other and everything, but he never introduced himself to me, let alone told me he was my _husband_." Her accusatory glance flashed to her father.

He gave her a confused one right back. "But Karin? How would Hitsugaya-dono know what you looked like? Daddy never showed him a picture of his Karin-chan."

"Karin-sama?" Matsumoto's voice cut off the older man. She emerged from the side of the house; it looked was having a hard time deciding if she really wanted to go up to her. Even so, she approached the family with less joy in her face than that evening. "The guests are beginning to leave. If you want, I can escort you to your room now."

The dark-eyed girl turned back to her family. In her anger, she had somehow forgotten what their leaving was going to mean. She was ready to send them off; they would stop by whenever they felt like it, but still… This was the final goodbye—for awhile at least.

They all came up to her now, embracing her or patting her shoulder with murmurs to take care of herself; each touch was lost on the white silk on her skin. Yuzu gave her sister one last teary-eyed and choking hug before exiting the gate. Karin gave them all a solitary wave. With a clatter of their carriage wheels, her family was gone.

She turned back to Matsumoto and let herself be led into the house. It was a maze of hallways and doors covered with carefully constructed paper screens. Outside, she could hear the voices of people moving through and out of the courtyard: some were saying goodbye; others were joking raucously with each other; and still more were sated with sake and singing drunkenly.

Finally, Matsumoto stopped in front of a pair of doors and turned to her. "This is where you are sleeping. All your things were placed in here and I laid out a yukata for you on the bed. I am in the first room on your left if you need me. There's also the room next to yours. The bathhouse is outside and adjacent to the house." Her fingers obscurely pointed out the directions. "Good night." She bowed once more and left.

Karin slid the door open and walked inside, not bothering with candles or lanterns and maneuvering around the room with her fingers and toes as guides before finding her bed. Her slender hands loosened and combed her tangled hair. Her body eased out the wedding kimono, letting it fall to the floor. She knew it was expensive, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

Her sleeping yukata slipped over her body and she fell to her knees, her skin warming the cool sheets of the platform bed underneath. She curled into a ball and tried to close her eyes. Nothing she had done today warranted her to be so exhausted, but she still felt waves of fatigue washing over her body. She cocooned herself in the bed's blanket.

She felt like she hadn't slept in three days. But no matter how tired she felt, in this new and unfamiliar house, sleep was still a long time coming.

* * *

The next morning came all too soon, bright, cloudless, and sunny. Karin opened a bleary eye and uncurled herself; this was the second consecutive night in a row she was doing that. And she only did it when she felt upset…or guilty about something. She hadn't forgotten that she had gotten married last night or her fist-to-face conversation with her new…_husband_ afterwards or her dad's confession after the damage was already done.

Just the thought put a bitter look on her face, so she tried to turn to other matters.

She sat up and stared around her room with its clean, sparsely-decorated walls and tatami mats. It looked like her things had been packed away for her already. Placing her bare feet on the ground and walking around, she pulled out drawers and opened her closet where her kimono and shoes were. Everything was in order. Even the trunks that had arrived the day before her were stacked and placed near the door, ready to be taken away; it was all a matter of getting used to.

As she stared, she realized that just about everything was hers; there was no evidence of another presence in her room: not in her closet, drawers, or vanity.

She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, thinking.

_I have to meet him soon. Might as well be this morning._ But she needed a bath first and badly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her towel and cloth and zori. Her fingers reached for her things and a kimono for added measure. And, sliding the door open and closed, she made her way downstairs past curious servants and into the bathhouse.

She emerged awhile later, fully dressed with the hope of spending some time alone before finding the house's owner or a kitchen (whichever one came first).

But it turned out that someone was already waiting for her.

Karin found herself staring at a girl sitting on her bed with a breakfast tray. The new guest looked up before lifting the tray towards her. The smile she effortlessly gave crinkled the corners of her milk-chocolate eyes. "Hi! You missed breakfast, so this is for you." She held up the tray towards her.

"Um…thanks…"

"Momo. Momo Hinamori. You should really try the miso."

"Momo-senpai." Karin sat on the edge of the bed about two feet away from her guest and placed the tray on her lap. "Itadakimasu." The smell of the broth warmed her to her marrow. She picked up her spoon to be polite.

Her obsidian eyes cast furtive glances to her companion. Momo appeared to be older by a few years, maybe twenty, and very pretty with her high, round cheekbones and creamy ivory skin. Karin found herself envying her long, slender neck and ebony hair, tied with a yellow hair cloth that matched her kimono's pale yellow butterflies. She started to feel very inferior in her old red kimono and ponytail. She ate her soup slowly to avoid conversation.

"I'm Shirou-chan's cousin. His mother and my mother were siblings." Momo offered to the silence.

_That_ statement made the tofu Karin swallowed feel like rocks. "Oh?"

"You looked _so_ pretty in your kimono yesterday. Everything was made so beautifully in such a short amount of time. I started tearing up during the ceremony. I even cried." She grinned.

"Oh." _So _she's _the other person I heard._ Karin shoved the whole of her sour plum into her mouth and chewed slowly. The last thing she had imagined for her first morning in Ugendo was spending her breakfast with that guy's nice and pretty cousin who didn't hold grudges even after having members of her family punched in the mouth. "Um…"

Like a temple prayer fulfilled, her door opened to see Matsumoto coming inside standing in her door. The purple kimono she wore did nothing to hide her ample chest. "Hm? Momo? What are you doing in here? _Oh! _You're awake!" She said to Karin. If she had been afraid of the eighteen-year-old last night, she certainly wasn't in daylight. "I'm happy that you are awake. And you found the bathhouse, too! Uh…I came in here to ask you something…what was… Oh yes! I wanted to know if you wanted a tour of Ugendo."

At this moment, Karin was willing to do just about anything to get away from this particularly awkward meal. "Sure! Um, thank you, Momo-senpai."

"Of course! And please, just call me 'Momo.'" She took the tray for Karin and left the room.

* * *

Ugendo was breathtaking in the sunlight. Every room the buxom woman went through in the large, two-story house, Karin noted, was decorated tastefully and beautifully. The vases, tables and chairs, and pictures she saw were no doubt expensive, but they were also sparse in their appearance. Sunlight poured into almost every room and potted plants stood in windowsills. She liked every inch of it; it reminded her of home. Despite the wealth she saw, everything was clean and tended to lovingly, just like how a house where people lived in should be.

Matsumoto was clearly happy with Karin's approval. "The Ugendo Estate is one of the oldest in Seiteri. Hitsugaya-sama inherited it from his father, Jushiro Ukitake-taicho, who got it from his father before him."

"Jushiro Ukitake-taicho?" Karin looked up at her tour guide. "That sounds familiar."

"Have you ever read _Rejection of the Twin Fishes_?" Karin nodded. The mini novels were the highlight of her reading preferences until age thirteen when they had stopped being printed. What kid hadn't read about the main character Sogyo, his dog Jibando, and all the adventures that took place in his villain-and-demon-infested village? Or screamed, 'I will reject them!' at the top of their developing lungs? Just about every kid in her neighborhood had re-enacted at least one of the adventures they read about.

Matsumoto leaned down slightly as if telling her a big secret. "Ukitake-taicho wrote them."

"No way! His _dad_ wrote them?"

"Ukitake-taicho had been a samurai under Yamamoto-dono—a very good one, too—but his health was never really good, so he had to retire. Afterwards, he built his own paper mill and began writing and publishing his and others' books and novels and stories. It's been highly successful. Just about everything written on paper within five _han_ comes from the mill. Hitsugaya-sama has handled business for the mill since he was thirteen; it's only last year that he began full executive of operations." Her voice was full of pride.

They started walking downstairs now. "Ukitake-taicho was a really kind and just man, a great scholar." The two women were making their way out of the house and into the courtyard.

The same place that had housed the wedding was now clear of tables and chairs. Flowers Karin had and hadn't ever seen before were visible everywhere to the naked eye. It was like someone had dropped every color of paint and ink ever made into the yard. If it was possible, the garden was even prettier than the house itself. She basked in its glow, much like the butterflies that wafted from plant to plant.

Matsumoto continued. "Ugendo used to be so much larger, but he donated his land to his servants—many of them live on this very block. He treated everyone with respect, from his mother to his servants…it was hard to not like or respect him.

"I remember when I first served him his tea. My hands were shaking so badly, I thought I was going to break the pot. But Taicho was very patient and encouraging. When I finished pouring the tea, he smiled at me and said, 'Rangiku-chan! Thank you for serving me my tea. You are very kind!' I was blushing for the rest of the day. He may have looked weak to some, but everyone who had ever met him knew him to be very strong. About the only thing he couldn't do very well was tend to bonsai trees."

She pointed to a part of the garden where the small potted trees stood. Each of them appeared to be either lacking in branches or looked completely gnarled. It was a wonder that they were still green. Karin grinned in the summer sun; there was no doubt that if she had ever met him, she would've liked him.

A frown crossed her face as she looked at Matsumoto. "If _Ukitake-taicho_ is his dad, why is his last name 'Hitsugaya'?"

"His dad married into the Hitsugaya Clan. I was thirteen when I first came to Ugendo. Ukitake-taicho married that same year to Megumi Hitsugaya-dono, the eldest daughter in the family. At the time, the Hitsugaya Clan was of higher nobility than the Ukitake family; it was decided by the elders that if they ever had children, they would all take the Hitsugaya name.

"Megumi was very, very beautiful and kind. The moment she first came to Ugendo, all the servants talked about was how strong and intelligent she was. She was almost as kind as Taicho, if not kinder. Everyone loved being in her company.

"Jushirou-taicho was smitten with her. If you ever saw them together, you could tell they were very happy." The two women bent over to smell a cluster of summer snowflakes. "They both held a lot of love in their hearts for one another; it was sweeter than anything I ever read or haiku ever written. Both of them accepted everything the other had: the dragon, the fish."

Karin's eyes wandered back to the dragon and fish she had seen outside of the front gates. That explained the stone figures.

"And their marriage was arranged, too." Karin stopped smelling the flowers, her dark eyes meeting with the blonde's knowing blue ones.

* * *

The last place Matsumoto showed was the last room at the end of the house. It was very quiet there and away from most of the activities of the rest of the house.

"_This_," she giggled mischievously, "is Hitsugaya-sama's office."

"Are we supposed to go in there?" Matsumoto pouted; that was not a question her new partner-in-crime was supposed to be asking. Her hands parted the double doors and stepped inside, her head suddenly poking out as Karin neared the door.

"He's still off doing errands. I made it so he would take all day to do so. He's thanking everyone for helping out and attending the wedding." The look and deadpan tone was not lost to the young girl. Karin sidestepped the assistant and walked inside.

It looked like any other office to her. It was neat and orderly with new tatami mats and wooden walls. Two black-lacquered tables sat low on the ground, one with pillows flanking each side, and the other with various writing materials: ink blocks, brushes, and an oil lantern. She noticed an abnormally tall stack of papers. _Does he really look at all of these?_ As the question fell from her lips, Matsumoto scoffed.

"He wouldn't have to if Kotestu and Kotsubaki would shut up long enough to get any work done," she mumbled.

Karin's feet wandered to a large bookshelf on the side of the room. It was very tall and full of volumes from side to side, head to toe. Some were the _Rejection_ mini novels and others being books written by other people. All had a small insignia of a fish; they were all books published by Ukitake. The sun was beginning to set descend and the sunset came through three tall windows behind the desk. A bamboo plant, an empty sake-drinking set, and a miniature of Buddha sat on each of the windowsills. It looked like an office he would own.

Her eyes trailed to the other side of the room where two sword racks and woodblock pictures hung from a small section of the wall. Karin neared the display. There were two swords. The first was actually two thin blades connected by a thick, red cord. Another tiny blade jutted from each of the larger swords' blade, its sharp edge on the inside of its crook. The second sword was a little longer than a meter and very beautifully crafted. Its guard was bronze and star-shaped and the hilt was a light blue. The blade itself was silver-icy white. Whoever had made these had been very skilled. "What are these?"

"Zanpakuto. It's an Ukitake family tradition. At the birth of a male in the family, a sword is crafted in his honor. The two-bladed one is called Sogyo no Kotowari and it belonged to Ukitake-taicho. Histugaya-sama owns the second one, Hyorinmaru." Matsumoto walked over to Karin. "He's very attached to both of them. And these," she pointed to the pictures, "are photos of his family."

The first was of his mother. Megumi was strikingly beautiful, just like Matsumoto said. Karin couldn't deny that from staring at her heart-shaped face, round, pink-tinted cheeks, and small, pretty mouth curved into a mischievous smile. Her glossy, dark-brown hair was up in an ofuku and decorated with pink chrysanthemums. Even her hand was beautifully poised underneath her mouth. Karin finally had to look away from the image's jade-green eyes.

The second was of Megumi and a handsome, tall man with long white hair and honey-brown eyes. _Ukitake-taicho_, Karin thought in awe of his masculine jaw, and firm, but kind face. Judging from their clothing, it was a wedding picture. Matsumoto was right—they were very much in love. She could tell in the way the late captain cupped his wife's chin and the crooked smile he gave her. Megumi, too, looked up into his loving eyes. Karin looked away from them and the emotion in the picture.

The final picture seemed to be a family portrait, a little less old-looking than the others. Jushirou and Megumi looked a little older in the picture, but no less enamored with each other. Like in their wedding picture, they were smiling. But this time was different: in Megumi's arms, barely clothed in a mint-colored blanket, was an infant Toshirou. Karin spent her time looking at the plump-looking baby boy with ruddy cheeks. It couldn't have been any clearer he took after his mother with the same heart-shaped face, cheekbones, and eyes. About the only thing he had from his father, it seemed, was a large palm-sized patch of downy white hair at the crown of his head.

Karin looked away from the picture to stare at Matsumoto. The older woman however, was looking directly at her. Her dark eyes narrowed suspiciously. _First, it was that story in the garden, now this._ It was obvious that there was something underlying this entire thing. "What do you want from me, Matsumoto?"

"I wanted you to see this so that you could understand something. I'm not mad about last night. I understand that you were—and still are—upset, but I've been trying to find a way to tell you something. This was all I could come up with.

"I know it's a strange situation and I'll admit that…Toshirou-kun is very hard to get along with. He's really quiet and introverted and gets angry easily. When most people meet him at first, they say that he can be really cold. It can't be helped; he is just like that. But I've been around him since he was born—he's like family to me.

"Please understand. He's lost a lot of people close to him. He was seven when Megumi-sama died. They were very close so he saw firsthand when she became sick. And though Ukitake-taicho put on a brave face for his sake, he himself was very sad when she passed. In almost the same amount of time, he died from tuberculosis and his grandmother followed. She was too weak to last any longer…she was so skinny when she passed. Momo came soon after and while he is very protective of her, they do not get along sometimes.

"I just," tears filled Matsumoto's eyes, "am asking you to please be kind to him. He is cold at first, but once he melts a little for you, he is very wonderful."

Karin stood for a moment, absorbing the truth in her words. It was obvious that he wasn't a monster like she had been fantasizing about for the last three days. Was it that hard for her to be nice? She loved Ugendo and while they were very girly, she did like Matsumoto and Momo a little. She sighed and opened her mouth. "I—"

She was cut off by a muted, sliding sound. Both women looked towards the doors and saw a crack in between them; someone was coming in. A very angry Toshirou Hitsugaya stood in the frame of the doors, looking at them.

_

* * *

_

_Annoyed_ didn't even begin to describe how he felt.

Toshirou had given Matsumoto the responsibility of creating the list of people he was visiting for the day. Usually she made it so he went to the furthest location first and worked his way in. But this time, that airhead had him going all over Karakura, from the temple to his doctor to the tailor's. And this was all under the hot summer sun.

But that wasn't even the worst part.

The worst part was his lip and the mark that was left after _that person_ had swung at him. While the swelling had gone down overnight, it had discolored and become a black blemish about an inch long. There was no way to hide it; it extended from the right half of his mouth to the corner. Everyone knew it to be from his new wife and _everyone_ had something to say about it. By the time he was finished, it had been described as the shape and size of a tadpole, praised for the showing of a strong wife (and therefore, strong children), and recommended for every remedy from salt water to a cold spoon to puncturing it.

As the day continued and he kept going, he felt himself getting madder and madder at that girl.

And at the same time, he kept thinking back at the last three days and everything he saw and witnessed about her.

Upon finally returning to Ugendo, all he wanted to do was eat his dinner and go to his office to begin to look at those neglected manuscripts piled high on his desk.

But when he opened the doors, he was met by Matsumoto and _her_. The two of them were standing by his swords and pictures and respectively looked guilty and uncomfortable. They shivered slightly, as if the room temperature had dropped by two degrees.

"Oh, Hitsugaya-sama! Back so soon?"

"Matsumoto, what are you doing in here?"

"Uh, Karin-sama and I were just…lighting the lanterns for you." His frosty eyes looked over at her for a moment before closing them in an effort to control his temper. He walked into the room now and made his way to the back of his desk, crossing his legs as he sat down.

"Is dinner prepared?"

"I don't know. I was giving a tour of the estate." Matsumoto lit the match to his lantern.

"Please have a tray sent here."

"You're going to eat in _here_?"

"Yes." He poured a bit of water left in a small cup over the ink block and began to run his brush over the mixture. He was getting annoyed again.

"You should eat in the dining room."

"I have a lot to read."

"Hitsugaya-sama! You shouldn't have to work so hard!"

"_You_ could help me look at these papers." His patience was shot now.

That changed her happy-go-lucky tune. "No, no, no, no. You should get Kotestu-chan and Kotsubaki-kun—"

"_If you have time to convince me to ask other people,_ _you can help, too!_" Without another word, she grabbed a set of papers and left the room, complaining about how mean he was and how her work was so hard.

That left him and her.

"I saw all of Ugendo today. It's very beautiful." She said. Though her words were friendly, the underlying tone was heated.

"Hmm? Yes, it is very nice. Arigato."

She made no point in leaving, but stood and continued to stare at him. With her red kimono, he could easily see her in the lantern light.

"I didn't know that your family owned a paper mill."

"It has only been in our family for a generation, but it is very successful." He didn't pause in his work. He understood what she was trying to do, but he wasn't ready to stop being angry yet. Still, he asked, "Do you like your room?"

"Yes, it's very nice…"

He stood, suddenly unable to work anymore. His lip was throbbing at the conversation. "I didn't want you to think about having to sleep in my bed." His eyes lifted, chilling and terrible.

She looked confused and taken aback but quickly composed herself. "I'm glad you're that smart." The heated tone was stronger.

He picked up the stack of papers he had been trying to read. If he couldn't do so in his own office, he was going to go read somewhere else. He stepped around her but she shifted back in front of him. "Goodnight," he said to her.

"Wait. Hey…HEY! I'm trying to…" She spun to keep herself in front of him, but he made it around her once again. "Hey, WAIT!" He heard a movement near him and saw Karin's hand coming at him, to keep him from leaving, he supposed. He knocked it away and he turned his arctic eyes to her fiery ones.

"_Enough_." There was more he wanted to say to her. How he had promised Kami and her family to take care of her; how he was not ready to forgive her yet; how he hadn't known who she was on that bridge. But behind his face, the thoughts that ran like water were chilled and stiff.

He simply walked around her once more and found she did not follow with anything more than her eyes. As he walked back to the door, she saw his assistant bounding back with his tray, chirping happily about the dishes she had.

"Matsumoto, I will be eating in the dining room." He walked past her.

Her face dropped. "Eh? But Hitsugaya-sama!"

_

* * *

_

_A/N: And here is the second chapter. I think I liked most of it; it was really fun to describe Ugendo and include a back story for my second favorite captain, Jushirou. I hope you liked that story I made up for him. And I hope I didn't bore you. I don't know if what Hitsugaya says to Karin in the last session was really good. He's a guy of few words, and I'm not trying to change that yet. But I liked that I started and ended with him. But thank you for the reviews and kind words and for adding me to favorites and Story Alerts. R&R!_


	3. The RED Haired BLUE Men

**The LOVE that bleached FIRE and ICE**

_An arrangement made at birth finds Karin and Toshiro married to one another. But maybe this might possibly be a good thing…and maybe this might possibly be love. AU KKxTH slight MHxSA_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach._

_AU Warning: Characters can and will appear OOC._

**

* * *

**

**Terminology:**

**Chopsticks: **A game in Japan; goal is to knock out the other opponent's "hands" by giving both hands five or more points thus "knocking out" the hands.

**Marigold and Lily of the Valley: **The Gotei's 3rd and 5th Squads' official flowers.

**Kansai tongue: **A distinct group of related Japanese dialects found in the Kansai region of Japan. It is characterized as being both more melodic and harsher by speakers of the standard language.

**Parakeet: **The images of the parakeets are based on the parakeet possessed by the little boy that made Karin sick.

"**Red hair": **A common stereotype the Japanese used to describe Europeans and Americans at the time of Perry's visit.

**Shogun: **At the time of the story, the _carte blanche_ ruler of Japan; power remained in the hands of the shogun until the Meiji Restoration.

**Tabi: **Are traditional Japanese socks. Ankle high and with a separation between the big toe and other toes, they are worn by both men and women with zori, geta, and other traditional thonged footwear.

**Union Uniforms: **Based off Union Army uniforms.

_

* * *

_

_From my perch I stare._

_You have given birth to my_

_now infant feelings._

**The "RED-Haired" Men in BLUE**

The atmosphere wasn't exactly tense, but it was very far from comfortable.

It had been two weeks since Karin had arrived and despite her feelings at the beginning, it had been pretty easy to get used to life in Sereiteri's thirteenth district. Ugendo was ever-beautiful with its open spaces and endless color. In a few days, Matsumoto and Momo had become two very good companions; she didn't have to go far to find one of them for company. And after initially gathering in pockets and whispering about her in the hallways and rooms, the servants had gotten used to her, their bows quickly becoming those of friendliness as opposed to obligation. A few even called her "Karin-chan" as opposed to "Karin-sama" or "Karin-dono." It wasn't hard for her to be herself here.

But still…

There was only one problem.

About the only problem.

One snowy-haired, green-eyed boy named Toshirou Histugaya.

Well, actually…

It wasn't like there was a problem…at least, a bad one. Since that night when her tour of the estate had turned into a samurai showdown, neither Karin nor Toshirou had fought one another. There hadn't been enough opportunities to do so; she almost never saw him. The Ugendo household was large, but Karin had to admit that she hadn't thought it was possible for him to avoid her. But it seemed like he was doing that, even inadvertently. He stayed in his office for hours on end, emerging at a few points of the day to eat meals and talk to Matsumoto…and sleeping (at least, she _assumed_ he was sleeping).

At the same time, she hadn't exactly spent her time trying to find him. Since that one word, "Enough," Karin had taken the advice and backed off. She had never known that one word could become so frigid when it came out of a person's mouth. Momo brought her meals and she spent most of her time outside in the garden plucking out the grass or smelling the flowers. The angry fire that had raged inside her for those few days was out…for now.

About the only time they had crossed paths was one particularly cloudy morning. Feeling like Momo deserved a break from carrying her tray back to the kitchens after every meal, Karin had decided to do the job for her. It wasn't like Ugendo was a maze anymore; the trip to the kitchens and back would be over before she knew it.

She had only rounded the hallway's corner to see him coming from her destination, dressed in a solid shale-gray kimono. Judging from the slight look of contentment on his face, he had apparently finished his meal and was heading back to work. His eyes had briefly flashed with recognition at seeing her before becoming impassive once more. Apple-green and oil-black eyes met as the two of them got closer and closer to each other. Karin felt herself pause in her trail, waiting for him to move past her or talk to her…something, anything.

And in one fluid movement, like a cold breeze, he had turned and bowed towards her. What may have been a few moments to observers seemed to be like an eternity to her, though he had straightened up before she knew what was happening. It took her a little longer than she would have liked to return the gesture.

The cook and kitchen staff had reigned with the supremacy of an emperor and his court that week amongst the estate's rumor circuit, knocking Matsumoto out of her long-held and well-deserved title.

It was a strange situation. And no matter how many times Karin's brain wracked to find a solution, she couldn't find a way to make it better or at the very least, less…weird. A simple apology didn't seem like enough.

That was why Matsumoto's sudden announcement a few mornings later had floored her.

"What?" The piece of pickled radish halfway into her mouth fell out of her chopsticks and back unto the plate with a dull _plink_.

"Hitsugaya-sama wants you to join him in his office this morning!" Matsumoto's smile stretched from ear to ear. Momo, who was once again joining her cousin-in-law in her otherwise solitary breakfast, was also happy at the news, gently but elatedly tugging her kimono sleeve.

"B-but I thought you said he had visitors today."

"He does! He does! But I guess he wants you there, too." She crossed her arms and pondered for a moment, as if evaluating his sudden, surprising behavior. Karin was happy one of them was doing so. "After all, you _are_ his wife. Megumi-sama used to sit in Ukitake-taicho's meetings from time to time."

"And after she died, Shiro-chan began sitting in those meetings. Granny would even come in with treats sometimes." Momo's grin took on the one that Matsumoto had a few seconds ago. "Ooh! This is so exciting!" She squealed.

Karin wasn't having the same sentiments. She didn't know anything about business, paper mills, or how to act in a meeting. Her father was a doctor; the only meetings she had ever witnessed were the ones that were between him and a patient. Mentally, she crossed her fingers; she hoped he wasn't expecting her to pour tea or something.

"_Well?_" Both women looked at her with anticipation.

_I guess I don't have a choice. _"When?"

Matsumoto grinned. "Right now!"

Karin looked down at her clothing. She was wearing one of the kimono her father had had made all those weeks ago, white with flying parakeets on the hems and sleeves. Her hair hung loosely down her shoulders. She never wore makeup, but she assumed the hot soup she had been slurping had made her lips look a bit red; however, it would probably fade by the time she got down there. Her fingers combed through her locks and she stood up from her bed.

A big puff of breath blew out of her lips. "I'm ready."

* * *

The cup of tea Toshirou was sipping was only a diversion from looking at her openly. He noted that the moments it took for her to recover from the shock were relatively quick; her expressive eyes were already calm and assessing her surroundings. Karin quickly approached the table where they were sitting, pausing in her haste to bow to everyone at the table. He returned the bow she gave him, and watched her kneel unto the pillow he had placed at the table, about three feet away from him on the right.

He placed the cup on the table firmly; her being here meant that he was now ready to begin. His eyes looked at the three men.

"Good mornin', Hitsugaya-sama." The first guest, tall and emaciated with silver hair bowed again, facing Toshirou. The sleeves of his orange and expensive-too expensive-marigold-patterned kimono crinkled slightly. "My name's Gin. Gin Ichimaru of Seiteri's third district." Toshirou didn't return the smile on the man's thin lips. "And these 'er Sosuke Aizen-taicho and Kaname Tosen-taicho. They're from th' black ships—_Americans_." His Kansai tongue put emphasis on the word.

Out of all that, the two men recognized their names and bowed awkwardly. They flanked Gin's either side.

Toshiro was, of course, aware of the Americans' black ships in Nagasaki and had been reading whatever information the newspapers were saying about them. Any foreigners being on the island with their heads still attached was big news, one that required his strict attention. Though there were rumors and depictions of them as demons, he had learned a few truthful things. Right now, it was being reported that they were still in Kurihama negotiating some papers their "shogun," a man named Matthew Perry, had brought from America. Meanwhile, the black ships' men were all being treated with the utmost hospitality the nation of Japan had to offer.

Overall, everything was reportedly going very peacefully.

Seiteri's thirteenth district was a long way from the third district. And Nagasaki was even further. It took more than a fortnight to reach here, even on Japan's best roads with the daimyo Yamamoto's personal envoy. Also, he had never heard of a stranger being able to move so freely through Japan, even the captains of ships. He hadn't expected to meet any of these strange men so far inland, and it was only for that reason he was entertaining them even now.

He scrutinized them again. _I thought they were supposed to have red hair._ These two men sitting across him were the complete opposite from that. The first man was very pale with messy, wavy brown hair and a frame of thick black glasses shielding his eyes. His face was generally calm and open.

The other was a warm brown color, the color of dirt after a storm, his hair long and tied in the back, thick, black, and curly. His milky-gray eyes were unblinking and settled on the table top. It didn't take long for Toshirou to realize he was blind. Both had on strange blue clothing with pieces of brass sewn in and leather crossing their chests. Flat and polished brass badges were pinned above their hearts.

And behind them laid their swords, long and polished until the silver of the handles gleamed in the late morning's rays. Toshirou noticed that the two men kept them less than an arm's length away, close enough to be grabbed in times of emergency. Toshirou glanced over at Hyorinmaru laying on its rack on the other side of the room.

His eyes snapped back to Gin. "_You _understand them."

"A bit here 'n there. The Dutch speak it a lil. I picked up enough ta translate fer th' two o 'em." Gin answered, his voice grating Toshirou's nerves a bit. His eyes hadn't opened once since he had sat down.

"So why are they here?" Toshirou's ears perked a bit at hearing Karin's voice. It had a bit of a hard edge to it; she had been easily ignored by the silver-haired man. And now, she was making sure he didn't do it again. That could be heard in the sound of her firm and businesslike voice.

Their guests all looked over to her, even the milky-eyed one, Tosen.

Toshirou kept his eyes glued to the front but waited for Gin's acknowledgment. Whether or not he did would turn the tide of this conversation.

Gin turned his smile towards Karin and bowed. His thin lips parted a bit as he mumbled his polite apology; Hitsugaya could barely hear it. His bony finger poked the pale man, and said something unintelligible, boorish in sound.

The man hopped up in surprise a little and scrambled around, patting his chest and thighs in his search. He said something nervously to which his translator joined him in laughter. Eventually, he found what he was looking for and placed it on the table, sliding it across the wood. His lips turned up in a disarmingly kind smile.

On the table was a small book, from Toshirou's own publishing company as seen by the small fish symbol on the cover's left hand corner. And on top of that was a small, folded white sheet.

"Americans use paper too, but it's not like the kind here in Japan. "Aizen-taicho wanted ta see th' maker of the paper but he in't know enough Japanese ta talk ta ya. I volunteered ta help." The man bowed and smiled, trying to speak but Toshirou couldn't make out the words. His sounds were remarkably less harsh than Gin's.

"He wants ta know if he kin see th' mill. Later on, a'course."

The white-haired boy looked from the man to Gin and then to the third man and then, out of the corner of his eye, to Karin. He doubted if that's what he had said.

This man, Gin Ichimaru with the closed eyes and permanent smile, made his eyebrows rise ever so slightly in skepticism.

Nevertheless… "Yes. I will have my assistant Matsumoto notify you of a time when I am free."

Gin grinned.

The man bent over, his excitement barely hidden with his smile. A few more sounds of the strange language tumbled out but he quickly stopped; it looked like he was trying to find better words to say. "Ari…arigato." He finally spoke out in hesitant, thick Japanese.

The four men and one woman all bowed towards each other once again.

* * *

Karin leaving for the meeting with Shirou-chan and the guests left Momo with not a lot to do. Usually, after returning Karin's tray to the kitchen, she would go back and spend some time with her, talking or playing chopsticks. Sometimes she would join Matsumoto while she did (more like procrastinated) her errands or drunk a bit of her early afternoon sake. But the extroverted blonde was also unavailable. Usually around this time with nothing to do, the dark-haired girl would go back to her room and begin drawing to pass the time.

But today, for some reason, she was too…restless.

And it was probably that feeling that made her finally notice that her plant, her lily of the valley, was outgrowing its pot and was ready to be placed in the garden.

With a smile on her face and her delicate hands gripping her flower's pot, she slowly opened her door and made her way through the hallway and down the stairs. Her toes felt wet; water was dripping from the bottom of the pot to the floor. She looked down to see a trail of water and dirt grains behind her.

"Oh," a wrinkle marred her otherwise smooth forehead, "I wish they hadn't put so much water in it." Making sure to take careful steps in her tabi, she continued towards the gardens outside.

She was almost there when she looked up to see three tall man walking towards her, one wearing a bright kimono and two strange men wearing equally strange clothes. _Shiro-chan's guests_, she thought offhandedly.

Politely, she stepped to the side and bowed in greeting. From her view, she saw the first man, the one in his kimono, grin and wave at her. She was struck vaguely with the image of a fox from his face's expression. The second stared forward and didn't look at her all. But the third, the one in glasses with skin like milk, returned her bow awkwardly and said something before smiling and walking away.

When she straightened up now, it was with pink cheeks.

She began to walk towards the gardens again, thinking about where she was going to put her plant, but before she could even make her first steps, her foot slipped in the puddle of water that had formed from her delay and she fell back. Part of her was aware of the way she landed on her floor and her pot tilting back and the dull sting of pain that was spreading and becoming stronger.

But the feelings of gentle, unfamiliar hands clasped around her fingers and around her back erased all of that. A little.

She looked up to see that milk-white man kneeling over her, helping her up. Judging from his knit brow, he seemed to be worried about her, but she couldn't understand anything he was saying.

That didn't mean that she wasn't blushing at their closeness.

The one in the kimono walked over and stood behind the man, looking down at her from the tip of his nose. He too was speaking strangely, albeit more broken and harsher. The third man stood a ways back, his hand on a door to keep him aware of his surroundings as he waited.

"He wants to know if you're okay." The man in orange said.

She had fallen and landed on her butt. Her kimono had wet dirt on it; it was probably completely ruined. And her lily of the valley was uprooted and crushed against its own pot; that had been the only reason why she came down in the first place. It was hands-down the most embarrassing moment of her entire life, worthy of hiding underneath the covers for the rest of the day.

She never felt better. She nodded, in awe of how handsome and kind he was.

The man now smiled with both his lips and light-brown eyes. He spoke again.

"He wants to know your," the man paused for a moment, "name."

She pointed to herself. "Momo. Momo Hinamori."

His smile sent tingles to her socks. He pointed to himself.

"Sosuke Aizen."

* * *

"Karin-sama, there's someone at the front for you."

"Really?" Karin looked up from her breakfast.

Her companions were otherwise missing from her meal. Momo, who was twice as exuberant as usual that morning, apparently needed to ask Matsumoto something "top secret" and to have her examine every one of her kimonos and hair ornaments for their quality. Matsumoto was only too happy to do it for her-anything was better than working. Though the blonde had invited Karin with a comment about learning more about "the pure feeling of beauty women inspired in men when wearing kimono" the young girl very flatly declined.

"Who is it?" She didn't really know anyone in the thirteenth district and though her friends from Karakura probably knew she was married by now, she doubted if any of them would travel to meet her new and possibly scary—scary to them at the very least—husband.

"It's a tall man with red hair, from the sixth district. He is very polite but has a most disagreeable expression on his face." The servant frowned.

"Ichi-nii!" Grinning, Karin placed her food down and ran past the servant and downstairs, careful not to trip in her kimono. Ichigo was the only guy she knew who fit that description. And even though he had left her on her wedding night more than a little angry, she had to admit that she missed him.

Unfortunately, when she reached the front, she didn't see Ichi-nii. But to the servant's credit, there _was_ a man with red hair in a ponytail and a scowl on his face. However, there had been no mention of the tattoos adorning his face, neck, and arms. He eyed her warily as she approached. They bowed to each other in greeting.

"You're Karin-sama?"

"Yeah. Who are you?"

He readjusted a bundle under his arm. "Renji Abarai. I'm the assistant to Byakuya Kuchiki."

That put a smile on her face. "Bya-sama? Then you _do_ know Ichi-nii."

"Yup. That tall, strawberry-head guy with the loud mouth and scary face." He said this lightly, as if even with all her brother's obvious and horrible flaws, they were good friends.

Karin smiled at the irony. "That's Ichi-nii. How's Rukia?"

_That _brought a smile to his face. "She's fine. A little cranky and craving a lot of crazy stuff, but fine. Her stomach looks bigger now; it's surprising she hasn't started waddling everywhere yet. Kuchiki-sama and Ichigo won't let her go anywhere by herself.

"But I'm here to deliver something to you. Your brother heard I was coming here for business for Kuchiki-sama and asked me to stop by here to give this to you." He took the bundle from under his arm and handed it to her.

It was packed just the way that was typical of her brother—messy with a lot of string. Her hands ripped the packaging and she peeked inside. The severity on Renji's face softened a bit at the sunny smile on hers.

Ichigo's gift was a ball much like her old one, except that it was orange, her favorite color. She squeezed it to test the air before dropping it to the ground and kicking it. It was perfect. Part of her vaguely wondered why she hadn't gotten one herself before.

"I don't think I need to ask if you like it."

She shook her head and continued dribbling it. It was so natural to her; she felt like a tiny part of herself that she hadn't known she was missing was now safely back home.

"He says he hopes you can find someone to play against you before he comes looking for you."

Another smile suddenly crossed her face, the kind that only came with a good idea. She wasn't aware if her brother was as perceptive as she was giving him credit for, but either way, she was grateful. "Yeah, I think I have a good idea of who to play with, too. Tell Ichi-nii I said thanks."

"No problem."

* * *

Hitsugaya was in the middle of editing another long and grammar-ridden manuscript when he looked up to see his office door being slid open and Karin standing in it. He resumed his editing as she walked inside and headed straight to his desk.

Karin figured he would act this way, but she wasn't going to be deterred; she had a plan. And she had a new ball. Her eyes bored two holes into his spiky head, giving up as her sheer will completely failed to make him look up from his tedious work.

_Be nice. _"Hey, can you play soccer?" She asked him.

His eyes looked up from the paper to stare at her. She was dressed in a short, sky blue yukata with strange, yellow pentagonal shapes on the sleeves and hem. Her hair had been tied loosely and now fell over her shoulder. She gripped a bright orange ball in between her hands.

"No." His brush slashed through a particularly nasty line of writing.

She paused for a second. This obviously required another approach. "Well, do you know _how_ to play soccer?"

He rubbed his brush in the ink once again, careful not to put any spots on his own yukata. He eyed her ball again. "No, I don't."

"Do you want to?"

"Who knows?" He sighed. The brush ran over the next mistake a little too forcefully that time. The sun was setting very quickly; he was going to have to start lighting his lanterns soon. He might even have to stay up late again.

Another sigh passed his lips, this time out of boredom.

The sound of her hitting the rubber of the ball reached his ears ever so teasingly, promising something he didn't take a lot—a break.

"I can teach you. I can show you some moves and then we can have a friendly little match." She saw him stop writing before he started again. He was a little hesitant this time in his proofreading.

"Soccer is a kids' game. Why would I play some silly kid game?"

Her temper flared a bit at that comment, but she held her tongue. _Be NICE._ "Oh. Then I guess that means you don't want to play because," she leaned down to his level a bit and smirked, "you're _sc-AR-ed_."

He gave her nothing short of his full attention now. "What?"

"Yup." She threw her ball up into the air nonchalantly. "You're scared of being beaten by a—kid—like—_me_. I don't blame you."

The look of indignation on his face almost made her laugh out loud; she couldn't believe it had worked so well. He stood up swiftly and put his papers away; editing could wait until tomorrow. He walked past her and outside the office. "Let's go."

She followed, smirking all the way.

The sky was in twilight when they walked outside clad in their zori. Lanterns were lit in the yard, swinging in the cool breeze of nightfall. Their flames casted an eerie glow against the blades of grass and flower petals.

Toshirou faced Karin and waited for her to begin. She dropped the ball to the ground and held it under her foot. "Kicking. Okay, you kick with your insole." She demonstrated quickly. "If you try to kick it with your toe, it'll go outside of your reach and I'll be able to get it better."

He nodded, already ready to begin.

"Now dribbling." She again demonstrated, kicking the ball in a circle around him. She placed it under her foot again and pointed to the small door along the wall, the only place without flowers surrounding it. "That's the goal. We'll go up to the three for today.

"You ready?"

He sighed, nonchalant about the whole thing. "I guess." He then suddenly kicked the ball out from under her foot and ran with it across the yard. His foot made a sweeping arch as he kicked the ball in the designated goal. The force of it made the gate door creak in its latch.

Karin ran up to him. "You," she panted slightly, "_do_ know who to play."

"No, this is my first time. This game is easy. I told you—it's for kids."

Color came to her cheeks. Her foot placed the ball between them. "If you think so." Her leg scooped up the ball and she dribbled it away. Her long hair blew out behind her slightly as she turned smoothly. Toshirou tried to keep up but in a few quick moves, she too made a goal, the force of her own kick making the door creak more forcefully.

She pointed at him with dead-set, competitive eyes. "One for one."

The game was in full swing after that. Toshirou was a quick learner with power behind his moves, but Karin had experience over him. Every move she made coursed through her entire body, from her foot soles to the tips of her flying raven-black hair; the only way to describe it was pure fire. She outmaneuvered him at one point, letting the ball fall behind her heel. He watched as she then jumped behind it and kicked it. It lost its momentum after her kick, but still tapped the door.

"Two for one." She yelled gleefully, already jogging towards her new ball.

He crouched down for air as she ran back with the ball. Both were panting slightly for air and sweat and grime cast their skin in a glow. Their yukatas were damp and clung to their backs and underarms.

The score was still two for one, Karin still with the point advantage.

Karin straightened up and put the ball to the ground. Her hand lifted her mane of hair, trying to let the breeze hit the skin covered under its mass.

The sun was out and now stars sprinkled themselves across the sky like sugar.

They got themselves ready. This was it: if Karin got the shot, she won; if Hitsugaya did, then they would keep playing. Toshirou wasn't sure what he wanted to happen more. The snowy-haired boy put the ball in his possession and was tearing across the grass. Cold, sharp air filled his burning lungs and the blood echoed and thumped in his ears. His goal was close but Karin suddenly popped up in front of him, ready to take the shot for herself.

She matched every one of his moves, a clear superior to his junior: fake left, forward right, turn, left, a little ways back in, then out again. He tried again for the right, but she was there again, the black obsidian of her eyes focused on him. And then suddenly, she broke her tunnel vision and opened herself on her left. He took the opening, blowing past her and ready to kick in his goal.

"I'm sorry for hitting you, Toshirou." She suddenly yelled, her voice overpowering the thumps of his heartbeat in his ears.

That stopped him in his tracks. He glanced at her face, noting the sincerity in her almond eyes. "Ah." He acknowledged, the grimness in his mouth softening up a bit at her words.

That look dropped as she suddenly ran up and kicked the ball away from him and took it to the goal. A brief shout of exertion escaped her lips as it slammed against the door and bounced back.

Three for one, game point: Karin.

"Yes!"

He couldn't believe it. "Oi!"

_

* * *

_

_A/N: Okay, so that is the third chapter. This one was fun. So now, we have Gin, Tosen, and Aizen in the mix. I hope my Gin Kansai-dialect was decent enough for all of you. I thought it would be good spin if they were American soldiers…you'll understand in time. (Ooh! Is this foreshadowing?) I decided to put Renji in the mix because he's pretty cool. And for the soccer match. I don't play soccer, all I know is how to kick and maybe the dribbling, but I wanted to pay homage to Bleach episode 132 without which we wouldn't have this pairing, lol. So R&R. _

_Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and thank you to all those people who keep adding me to their lists. You all rock my socks! See you in chapter four._


	4. The MELTING Wall PREAMBLE

**The LOVE that bleached FIRE and ICE**

_An arrangement made at birth finds Karin and Toshirou married to one another. But maybe this might possibly be a good thing…and maybe this might possibly be love. AU KKxTH slight MHxSA_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach._

_AU Warning: Characters can and will appear OOC._

**

* * *

**

**Terminology:**

**Honjozo-shu:** a type of sake, in which a slight amount of brewer's alcohol is added to the sake before pressing in order to extract extra flavors and aromas.

**Kanji: **the Chinese characters that are used in the modern Japanese logographic writing system; The Japanese term _kanji_ literally means "Han characters."

**Manju:** Manju is a Japanese steamed cake, and it's a traditional Japanese sweet. A variety of fillings are used in manju. The most popular filling is anko (sweet azuki bean paste.)

**Natto: **A traditional Japanese food made from soybeans fermented with _Bacillus subtilis_. It is popular especially as a breakfast food; an acquired taste due to its powerful smell, strong flavor, and sticky consistency. According to Tite Kudo, it's Toshirou's favorite food.

**Obi Sash: **A sash for traditional Japanese dress and the most elaborate part of kimono outfits (usually, the more formal the occasion, more elaborate the kimono); varies in length for men and women; and the most elaborate.

**Sakura (Tree): **A tree native to Japan. _Hanami _events take place in Japan annually. Also a common name for girls in the country (i.e. _Naruto's_ Sakura Haruno).

**Shinokendo: **The art of Japanese swordmanship.

**Udon: **Japanese cuisine; thick wheat-noodles served as a hot soup in a mildly-flavored broth.

_

* * *

My blocks of cold ice_

_are crashing down before me._

_I melt now, slowly._

**The MELTING Wall PREAMBLE**

The faint pattering of rain outside his office windows both soothed and irritated Hitsugaya. His eyes skimmed through yet another line of the poorly-written manuscript, the one he started so many nights ago, the tip of his brush scratching through the kanji on the page. The stack of papers was getting smaller, but at a slower rate than what he was used to.

Time was completely alien to him. Usually, the sun peaking through the windows would tell him the part of the day. But the sky that morning had opened over the thirteenth district in a sickly swirl of gray and yellow with gluttonous and dark rainclouds hanging overhead. They were the remnants of an overnight storm, one the eighteen-year-old had thought would dissipate by noon. However, the heavy rain drops that had greeted him on his way outside the bathhouse and accompanied him during his solitary breakfast proved him to be wrong.

_Oh well_, he thought now, adjusting the sleeves to his koi-fish kimono, _it can't be helped_. The rain splashed behind him, most likely gathering in large puddles along the house's walls.

At the rate he was going, his task was going to take all day and most of the night. Part of him wanted to send for Matsumoto, but knowing his assistant for as long as he had, she was probably somewhere else in the house, hiding from him. He didn't question the possibility of her being completely drunk on her special, oft-partaken "Rainy Day Honjozo-shu." That would explain why he hadn't seen one strand of hair on her blonde head for the entire day.

The sounds of water outside became louder; his brow furrowed. _I thought it would be done by now_, he groused suddenly. His concentration for the moment was gone.

His hand stopped in his critiquing for a moment; a new set of thoughts were coursing through his mind.

If the green-eyed boy was going to be completely honest with himself—and _only_ himself—the only reason why the normally calming rain was bothering him was because it meant the game with Karin would be canceled later on that night.

Since that first night, when she had apologized and won their first match, Toshirou and Karin had developed a routine of playing a match of soccer against each other. Every night, an hour after dinner, she usually walked in his office, ball in hand and dressed in a short yukata.

It was at first a "friendly rematch" (in which Toshirou won), and then another match with "no funny gimmicks this time" (in which Karin scored all game points). Now, the matches now went up to five points a game to accommodate Toshirou's skills as a novice and Karin's need for competition. They usually played to the point the sweat dripped over their eyelashes and every deep breath taken stung inside their lungs.

Karin was 4-3, but not for lack of trying. This was supposed to be the night he evened the score.

He blinked. _Even if it stopped raining, the grass would still be wet._ He thought that, but didn't go back to work. If he still had to be honest…

The other reason he enjoyed his evenings was because it seemed to be the only way he could actually see his…soccer opponent. The hostility was gone between them and the awkwardness was gone, too…but whatever was supposed to be there in its place hadn't appeared yet. She still took her meals upstairs with his cousin and assistant; the only times he saw her during the day was walking down a hallway. And their brief, unexpected moments of interaction throughout the day completely depended on who saw who first: if it was her, there was a wave and a few pleasantries; if it was him, they'd bow good morning to one another.

If Toshirou had to name or label them, they were…"friends." And for now, he supposed, that was fine.

A knock on the door came to a crescendo with the fast-falling rain outside.

"Come in."

He looked up to see the object of his thoughts standing in his door, balancing a tray of dishes with on her hip. She walked in carefully with tabi on her feet; the rain had put a cool breeze through the house, one that only Toshirou was immune to.

He paused in his thoughts and work; she was hours early and without her ball.

"Hi, Toshirou," she said, as if nothing she was doing was strange at all.

His face was like a block of ice, not betraying anything he was thinking. "What time is it?"

She firmly set the tray down on the table, careful not to rattle the cups. "A little after two. The cook made some tea and manju buns." She kneeled at the table, placing her hand over a steaming cup. Her kimono today was patterned with bright orange sakuras on branches, and her ebony, long hair was loose. Her fingers wrapped themselves around the cup, and she shivered, the heat making her shake off the coolness that touched her skin.

He found himself relaxing in her presence. "How are you?"

Her lips hovered over her cup's rim and she looked outside at the light gray seeping into the room. "It's raining," was her somber reply. She drew back suddenly as the hot liquid burned her lip.

He nodded at his paper with understanding. As a reward for winning their soccer game, the loser had to tell the winner one thing about themselves. So far, it was the only way he was learning anything about the fiery, enthusiastic girl: she had been playing soccer since she was four; her favorite season was summer; everyone in her family hated the rain. "How's the editing going?"

"Going. If that airhead Matsumoto, was here, I'd probably be done by now." His face took on a particularly sour look; his brush scratched a few more mistakes.

Karin grinned briefly, the corners of her mouth falling slowly in thought. A soft tapping filled the room; her fingers tapping against her porcelain cup. It sounded like the rain outside was searching for her rhythm to follow.

Apart from that, the scratching of bristles across paper, and the torrential world beyond the office walls, everything was in silence for a few minutes.

"Hey, Toshirou," Karin suddenly said. Her calling him by his first name with such familiarity was something she had adopted after the first game without a second thought. He followed suite, calling her by her first name with no suffixes or titles. Neither of them ventured to call each other by their shared last name. "Why don't you let me help you edit?"

His eyes slid over to her, not quite believing that the sentence had come out of her mouth. She was munching a manju bun, but looked straight at him, completely serious.

"What?"

She swallowed her food. "Teach me. I taught you how to play soccer; you can teach me how to edit manuscripts."

He looked down at the paper and pretended to work, trying to gauge her sincerity in the offer. "It's not like soccer; I can't really teach you any techniques. Are you good at grammar?"

She shrugged and pushed her cup away. "Sure. My teacher used to say I wrote essays pretty well."

He stood up with his stack of papers and inks and brushes. He walked over to the table and sat down beside her. Grabbing his cup of tea as she prepared herself, the eighteen-year-old watched her put ink on her brush and bunch her sleeves so as not to ruin them. They both leaned over another sheet of paper, one that didn't have any mistakes written on them yet.

His brush handle tapped various points of the sheet. "Point out any mistakes in spelling and grammar you can see. Also, if you notice any part that seems unclear, write it out in the margins. The more comments you make, the more the author can see what needs to be improved."

She nodded and began looking at the paper with focused eyes. Hitsugaya took one more look at her before getting back to his own task.

And there in the office, they got to work, the rain still beating against the windows with no signs of letting up.

* * *

It wasn't him like she had been hoping…Sosuke Aizen.

It wasn't even that other man with the fox face.

It was another man, a man Momo had never met before, holding a large black umbrella under the pouring rain with a panic-stricken look on his pale face.

He looked at her, obscured in the darkness of his umbrella. "Are, are you Momo Hinamori-sama?"

She stepped out of the comfort of the house into the whipping, damp coolness outside. The rain fell down in heavy sheets everywhere, a marked difference from five minutes ago when it was a light, misty drizzle. Drops of it fell from the sloping roof and over the front porch, creating a barrier between them. She made sure not to go beyond the first step; she didn't want to make it so easy for him to catch her if he was really out to harm her.

"Yes, I am." She peered ever-so-slightly underneath his cover. "Who are you?"

"Uh, my name is uh, Izuru Kira." He stared at her with his right, beady blue eye; his left was hidden under a mass of cornflower-yellow hair. "I am an…associate of Gin Ichimaru." He noted the blank look on her face. "He came to Ugendo a week ago with Sosuke Aizen-taicho…"

"Aizen!" The smile that crossed her face crinkled her eyes in excitement. Since that day, when she first met the strange, beautiful man in blue, she hadn't been able to get his face or the feel of his gentle hands out of her mind. She would daydream about him, about meeting him, the things she would try to say, the way he would smile, a well of communication open between them.

Just knowing that this man, in his somber-colored hakama, also knew Aizen made butterflies erupt in the pit of her stomach.

She was happy that she had volunteered take the door for Karin; if the other black-haired girl had met Kira and learned that this man was here for her, she doubted if this meeting would have happened. "You've met Aizen?"

"Yes. I came to Ugendo to deliver this message from him…to you." Under the falling beads of rain sliding through the grooves of his umbrella, his pale, long-fingered hand shot out from his shelter to hers. She pushed back the sleeves of her kimono, rust-colored with peaches, and accepted the gift in his shaky grasp.

His face looked immensely worried and even saddened, but Momo just figured he was cautious about being caught by Shiro-chan. Her eyes briefly looked behind her to do him a favor.

The coast was clear; even Karin, who Momo thought would have come to the door to check on her after giving her cousin his snack, wasn't around.

She looked down at her hand. In her fingers, slightly damp with rain, was a folded piece of paper. Momo looked at it and its black ink writing, grinning slightly. _It's from him. _She turned it over before pulling her hand away; her fingertips were smudged in black and her prints were in the corners. "Oh no!" The ink was beginning to run and the words were beginning to blur.

"I have to go!" She said to the blonde man, turning away and opening her door again.

"Ah, wait!" His hand clasped her fingers. She looked at him with panic, pausing in her run to stare down at his embrace. Like she was made of thorns, he dropped her hand. His eyes looked away nervously. "He asks that you send a reply to him in two days."

Her pretty face tinged pink at the request. _He wants to talk to _me_? _"There is a gate behind the house. If you wait until midnight for me, I'll come with my letter. Thank you." She bowed, opened the door and stepped halfway inside before turning back to him. "Ja ne, Kira-sama."

He looked up her with that one, grieving eye. "Sayonara…Hinamori-sama."

* * *

"What else is left, Matsumoto?" Toshirou asked. It was well past nightfall, closer to midnight; the rain had finally let up, but as expected, the ground was still too saturated with rainfall for anyone to walk on, let alone roll a soccer ball across.

"The wood pulp for the mill will be delivered tomorrow." His assistant replied form her spot at the table. As the final raindrops settled across Ugendo's ground, she finally emerged from wherever she was hiding, knocking on his office door and adjusting her obi sash and lavender kimono.

"Marechiyo Omaeda-san told us from the last shipment that he expects payment upon arrival…but we paid him from the last time—"

"Fine. Kotsubaki and Kotestu know to have it ready for his arrival." He waited for Matsumoto to make the necessary marks in the ledger. "When is my visit to the mill with Gin Ichimaru scheduled?"

"September third. That's three days from now."

"Have it cancelled and send word to them. And tomorrow, send a message to Kyoraku-taicho. His manuscript's been edited. I wish to deliver it myself. Tell him I would like to join him for lunch to discuss it."

"Of course." A few more notes. "That's it, Hitsugaya-sama." The two of them straightened up their books and papers. Toshirou stood up from his desk and made it from around his desk; he was ready to sleep, but not before thinking some more.

"Are you disappointed?" She asked suddenly.

He turned back to his assistant, who was looking at him, cradling her head in hand.

"What?" He wasn't in the mood for riddles.

"Are you disappointed that you couldn't play soccer tonight?" She pointed outside to the yard.

No, he wasn't. Karin had spent the evening with him, editing her pages of the taicho's manuscript. The young girl had taken her task very seriously, easing into his preference for silence. From time to time, his eyes lifted up from his labor to find her writing on the papers. At times, her lips would part, silently reading a passage that gave her trouble. They took a small break as dinner arrived: udon for her; natto for him; watermelon cut in wedges. Small talk had taken over for that time, with him answering just about every question she asked him and accepting every statement she told him.

It had been a very good night, their missed soccer game withstanding.

"Why are you asking me that?" He asked now, his voice deathly grave.

"Oh, no good reason," She said airily, waving off his sour mood with a hand.

He gave her a suspicious, weary look. "Then don't ask me that." He was closer to the door now.

"It's just…you look calmer, Tai-cho."

He paused again and looked down and away.

"_Are you going to sleep now, Toshirou?" Karin stopped stretching and looked over at him, her arms still in the air. The two of them had finished the manuscript hours ahead of what he had been expecting. The whole thing in its entirety stood in a neat pile on the table. Every page they had looked at was littered with several black marks. _

_The light of the lanterns in the office cast everything in a warm glow. Their sun-kissed skin glowed, their eyes looking glassy. Shadows danced around their faces, noses and cheekbones._

_He placed his cup of warm tea down with a solid _thunk_. "No. Matsumoto will be up and in here soon; the month is almost up and we have things to discuss." He looked up at her for the next thing he was about to say. "I'm planning on us going to the mill soon…Do you want to go?"_

_When she smiled, it was with her eyes. "Sure! Since I first heard about it, I've wanted to go. It would be good for me to see it, since it's so important." _

"_I'll let you know when we will visit." He wanted her to stay awhile longer, but she had to return the dishes to the kitchens. And it was late; she probably wanted to sleep now. Both of them walked to the doors and Hitsugaya opened one of them for her._

_She murmured her appreciative thanks and turned to go; in her haste, a cup fell on its side on the tray, a bit of the cold liquid dribbling out. Toshirou reached over to straighten it. As he reached over, his fingers brushed over her hand passing over her knuckles and fingers with a slight touch. Her skin felt smooth and warm._

_He pulled back as if he had been burned. The cup meanwhile stayed on its side. _

_There was no way to explain that. Even if the cup had fallen, that didn't mean that his hand was free to pass over hers. It made what was otherwise a really great night awkward._

_Karin gave him a strange look out the corner of her eye; her hair obscured him from seeing her entire face. "Good night, Toshirou," she mumbled and left the room, her socked feet padding across the floor._

"_Good night, Karin." He couldn't help but to think he did something really, really wrong._

"You're usually really guarded in your face. And you've only liked Shinokendo as a sport, not soccer. But you play it with her every night." Matsumoto's voice was very sure in her opinion; there weren't a lot people apart from her that knew the white-haired boy's slight changes in expression and habit.

The boy walked over to the door. He was prepared to leave the blonde to her musings and get some sleep. "Your _point_, Matsumoto."

Her hands adjusted her kimono. "September third will make it a month since she arrived. You two are getting along and you're calmer now…I'm happy for you."

He opened the door. His actions never betrayed what he was thinking before; if he ignored her, he could make sure it stayed that way.

"Taicho, it's okay if you have a crush on your wife."

He almost turned around. He almost confirmed that it was true. _Almost_. Ever so slowly, he walked out his office, leaving the door opened for her.

* * *

It was dry now.

Since saying good bye to Izuru Kira-sama, Momo underwent the task of drying Aizen's letter. Clearing a part of her vanity, she had opened the paper and set it down. The brown-eyed girl was careful not to read anything—not before it was ready.

And now, in the dead of night, it was ready. She neared her lantern and held it up to her hungry eyes.

_Dear Momo Hinamori,_

_I cannot write or read Japanese, so I have asked someone to do so for me. I hope you can understand the words; I was assured he was the best at writing and calligraphy. _

_How are you? I hope you are feeling better since the last time I saw you._

_

* * *

_

_A/N: Chapter 4, "The MELTING Wall PREAMBLE!" I'm very excited about this—even though it is very short. But the best things have been said to come in small packages. So Kira was a last minute decision, but I think I like him here. I feel like he'll be good for the subplot. This chapter was really Toshirou/Momo orientated. I didn't plan it that way, but Toshirou is such a hard character to write about and make dynamic. I really wanted to have him change a little, not make it so sudden. So I like that. Matsumoto is really really perceptive. But R&R. Thank you very much and see you in 5. _


	5. The FIRST

**The LOVE that bleached FIRE and ICE**

_An arrangement made at birth finds Karin and Toshiro married to one another. But maybe this might possibly be a good thing…and maybe this might possibly be love. AU KKxTH slight MHxSA_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach._

_AU Warning: Characters can and will appear OOC._

**

* * *

**

**Terminology:**

**Anmistu: **Japanese sweet that includes kanten jelly, fruits, and boiled sweet azuki beans.

**Arrancar: **The appearance of the Arrancars may actually be like that of an imperfect Arrancar. An example may be the appearance of Grand Fisher when he arrives to the Living World the second time in _Bleach_'s main storyline.

**Bird of Paradise: **The flower insignia of the 8th Squad.

**Gyoza Soup: **Japanese dumpling soup.

**Hollow:** Hollow are Hollow are Hollow, lol.

**Ihai: **Small white tablets, in the shape and mold of a grave headstone. Usually found in the home and bare the name of the deceased.

**Katana and Wakisashi/ Scimitars:** Shunsui Kyokaru's zanpakuto in its unreleased and shikai states. _Wakishashi_, a sword similar to but shorter than a katana (1 to 2 feet); when coupled with a katana, it makes a daisho (pair). _Scimitar_ is a sword with a curved blade design finding its origins in Southwest Asia (Middle East).

**Uraeri: **The official name for a kimono's collar.

_

* * *

And with our first touch,_

_I hope for you to know me_

_and my burning heart._

**The FIRST**

"Hey, Karin? Can I do your hair for you?"

Karin almost dropped her cup of oolong tea on her checkered obi sash. She looked like her cousin-in-law had asked for her head to be placed on a pike. "…What?"

Momo, dressed that morning in a pink kimono with silver dragonflies, practically slid the distance across the room to her visitor. That morning, she had requested a change in scenery for breakfast: her bedroom. And everything was going fine…right up to this point.

Karin felt herself being dragged to sit on the bed, but didn't feel the soft futon underneath. She was trapped.

"I'm sorry." Momo's bright, happy face fell at Karin's surprised, nervous one. "It's just…I think it's so pretty and I've wanted to ask you for awhile now…"

Karin ran her fingers nervously along the back of her neck; her hair had gotten trapped under her uraeri in the pull. "No, Momo…i-it's okay. It's just…" Karin looked over to Matsumoto. The third party was chewing her piece of salmon with her blue eyes closed, obviously not an aide for the younger girl. Meanwhile, the bubbly girl waited for her explanation.

The truth _was_, despite being there on her head so obviously near itchy fingers, no one really touched her hair. She almost never allowed it. It _was_ long, it _was _pretty, and for a while, it was her favorite part of herself, her sliver of girly vanity. And for the most part, only a few were allowed to touch it.

When she had been four, her father had tried his hand at fixing it for the first time, sitting her down with combs and bows; his quick, rough combing of her hair lasted for only a moment. It had been the first time she had kicked his leg, running outside the clinic and refusing to go back inside until night fell. And when she did, it was only to find herself a pair of scissors. She remembered how he looked when she walked downstairs with her choppy locks, cut just past her ears.

He was quick to apologize and he never tried it again.

For almost five years she did that, it growing back longer and thicker each time, washed with expert, child fingers and tended to with a wide-toothed, wooden comb. It was never tied during neighborhood soccer games; it made her warmer and sweat trickle down her brow.

It had reached past her shoulders when she finally agreed to let Yuzu do it. That day, the two ten-year-old twins had knelt in front of their shared mirror, the younger sister running her domesticated hands through her sibling's scalp. Tears were in Yuzu's brown eyes the entire time; Karin didn't shed a drop but stared at herself and a sister with a faraway expression.

By the time they were done, Karin's hair was combed, parted, and neatly set in three heavily-pinned buns. For a whole week, Karin didn't play soccer or _Sogyo_, instead respecting the hard work. Except for a few trims now and again, she hadn't cut it since.

So, in her eighteen years of life, the only people who had touched her hair and were left unscathed were Yuzu…and her mother…

Momo was still expecting an answer.

"It's just that I…wouldn't want you going through all that time trying to do it. I can't keep any style for more than a few days." She smiled her lie.

Momo didn't waste time thinking of her next sentence. "I could do something that lasts longer…I usually do. Shiro-chan could probably tell you if he likes it; he always tells me he likes mine when I ask."

It must've been the gulp Karin made that attracted Matsumoto's attention.

_Toshirou_…he brought up a new set of thoughts, though not the same ones that had plagued her weeks ago. The soccer games and that afternoon and night she spent in his office ended that, but only to deal her a new set of emotions.

The cyan-eyed boy wasn't like she had first imagined him, a stupid, pompous, fat, greedy, lazy, asshole-jerk; he was smart and humble and reserved and polite. From her experiences with other immature, whiny, and hormonal boys as friends, she knew he was nothing like anyone his own age. He had thoughts and ideas and he wrote them down every day in the margins of people's works. Coolness radiated from his moves and decisions. Even from the beginning when he had tried to save her ball that day, she saw that. She wasn't sure that she could pinpoint what exactly made him so cool to her, but she figured that whatever it was, it was just one small thing that helped to make up the overall appeal of him.

He had a temper that could freeze, not burn like hers. It was without sound and it didn't involve hitting or yelling at anyone with blazing fury, but it was there and he wasn't afraid of standing up to her with it. Few guys did that. Fewer got away with it.

And he liked soccer—that was important. For someone new to the game, he was better than even Ichi-nii, powerful and controlled. Every time he moved past her, it was like he was a blizzard: swift, with his hair like a passing snowfall. She could tell that he really thought on his feet, adapting to just about anything she could bring at him. And, well…She'd never noticed a guy before, but found that she wasn't keeping her eyes on his lean, corded muscles, legs, thoughtful green eyes, and hair just because she wanted to score a goal.

He was nothing like her…but, she guessed she…_liked_…him that way.

And then, three days ago, he had put his fingers on her hand. It had been brief and accidental, she knew that. But even there in the bedroom, she could trace his touch: his hand had pressed on her skin and crept up, his pinky finger sliding over her middle finger before he had pulled away.

It reminded her of when Yuzu had spent one walk back from school gushing about how her crush had held her hand during lunch that day. For the rest of the night, all she talked about to her older sister was the "tingly feeling" Urashima-kun's hand gave her; dinner was almost burned. It had been the fruit to Karin's anmitsu dessert of torture.

But she understood now. It wasn't something you could forget; she could only compare it to having a melting ice cube stuck down her kimono as a practical joke: the ice had evaporated quickly and the action had long since passed, but the feeling of it was still there.

But to change her hair just so he could say something about it...

"Hitsugaya-sama is really observant, but doesn't look into things that don't make him suspicious. It would be different if I or Momo changed our hair—we'd get _the look_." Matsumoto's expression took on stressed eyes and a grim mouth and a dark expression, a perfect imitation of the topic of the conversation. "But if you changed your hair, he wouldn't think you were fishing for compliments; he'd just notice it for what it was," her chopsticks were placed down with a _clack_, now done with her meal. Her eyes, once again, had that knowing look to them.

Well, _that_ changed things.

"I'd just do one thing! Just _one _thing!" Momo clasped her hands, pleading with her. Maybe Karin had twitched or done something with her face because though she hadn't said anything, it seemed Momo got the permission she wanted. Her entire face lit up.

"You'll love it, Karin! I promise!" Momo dragged her to the mirror.

* * *

"Welcome back, Hitsugaya-sama. Kyoraku-sama would like to know if you would enjoy eating in the garden today. Today we will be serving sushi."

Toshirou returned the polite bow the woman gave him. "Yes, that's fine." He followed her into the garden, the smell of Bird of Paradise overpowering his senses.

Shunsui Kyoraku-taicho was a former samurai and an old friend of his father's dating back from childhood. They had both trained and served under Yamamoto until his father had retired. Toshirou could remember his father boasting of the man's skill and ambidextrous handling of the katana and wakisashi. Under the tutelage of Yamamoto, he had not only mastered Japanese weapons, but Chinese scimitars as well, something few other samurai could boast of. He had long since become a ronin, but still taught new additions to the local militia.

Toshirou could remember him coming to Ugendo and discussing various things with his father, from books to the old days spent under their sensei. The young man needed information and knew it would probably come from him.

He heard the former samurai before he saw him, sitting on his back porch and drinking sake, watching the leaves fall, the first signs of the change of season. Like always, he dressed elaborately in a pink, flowered kimono and his straw hat. His glazed eyes looked to see his guest walking over to him. "Ah, Toshirou-kun! Welcome, welcome…no, no, don't bow—just come and sit."

The young man turned and bowed to his wife, Nanao, who was putting down her book. "Hello, Toshiro-kun. My idiot husband and I are happy you decided to visit." A while after his father had died, Shunsui had announced his marriage to the younger bespectacled woman. Up until now, he had always thought of them as a strange match. She was so much more reserved than him, prone to reading and other scholarly activities; he had never seen her ever join him in his drinking and usually ignored his teasing and joking. But he figured there was something between the two for them to be so close.

Toshirou sat down, but not before noticing Shunsui's katana lying unsheathed beside her leg.

"I was just enjoying the leaves falling. Fall is the best time for sake; the cool breeze makes it weigh lightly on the heart. My Nanao-chan doesn't drink and you are still too young, so I may have to drink for the three of us…" He took another sip. "Very nice, a strong strong flavor." His wife ignored him, turning to a bowing servant and asking for tea and the first part of the course.

"Nanao-chan knows how excited I am to know that you finished my manuscript. I hope your writing hasn't stiffened your wrist; I would hate for my hard work and your talent to go to waste."

Toshirou lowered his eyes; when he had been young, his father had decided to have him learn Shinkendo with Shunsui as his sensei. Under Kyoraku, he already mastered the katana; now he only picked it up once in a blue moon. But since he was young, it had been a running joke that Toshirou's skill would easily surpass his teacher's with time. "No. Here are your papers."

His smile drooped at the comments littering his own words. "Oh, Toshirou-kun! There are so many marks." The ronin pouted childishly as he thumbed through the papers.

"That's because you didn't proofread. You just finished and sent it to him." Nanao reprimanded him. She adjusted her glasses, her husband's attitude not even fazing her.

"I'm…sorry, Shunsui-sensei. But your story about a charismatic samurai who has love confessed to him by every female he meets is…unrealistic for audiences." A server came with gyoza soup.

The eccentric man laughed heartily, his Adam's apple bobbing with the action. "Is that so? Oh well. If I could, I would go out and research again, but jealous Nanao-chan might not like that. But, Toshirou-kun, I am surprised you didn't bring your wife to visit; I am still impressed that such a pretty girl has such a right jab. I could use a sparring partner to keep me in shape in my old age." He laughed heartily at his own joke.

Toshirou chose not to answer, cutting a dumpling floating in the broth and chewing it slowly.

"Are you and your wife getting along better?" Nanao asked.

"Yes. We are getting along well." To him, trying to understate it made it sound like something small and obvious, and he wanted to end the topic at that. He came for advice, but not on his…feelings for Karin.

"Shunsui-sensei, a few weeks ago, I had visitors from Nagasaki."

"Oh?" He made an off-handed gesture of gratitude towards the server placing a boat of sushi out for them. He took his chopsticks and broke them. "Well, you're a successful businessman—visitors should not be so much of a shock."

"The man was named Gin Ichimaru and claimed to be from Seriteri's third district. He came with Americans."

"Oh. Americans…" Kyokaru's face became serious.

Nanao swallowed her sushi.

"Do you know anything about this Gin Ichimaru?" Toshirou pressed.

Kyoraku stood and grabbed a piece of sushi with his fingers. His hairy hand wrapped around his katana's hilt. He raised an eye at the falling leaves and ate the sushi whole. "No. Japan has too many Gin Ichimarus…but if this one had Americans with him, you may be right in asking for information."

"It may be happening faster than you thought, Shunsui." Nanao said to her husband. Kyokaru nodded.

Toshirou looked at her before going back to his host.

The tip of his katana pointed to the clouds overhead. "The Americans in Kurihama came with…demands for trade and goods among other things. They are asking us to open our ports and offer refuge for their sailors. They are basically asking for an end to our sokaku. Even though they came with peaceful hands, their leader left his men behind. That's a blatant threat to the country. The shogun has no time to act...if time existed in the first place.

"The politics of it have already started, but I've heard that Yamamoto is not pleased. He is with the belief that this may lead to disaster for Karakura and Japan and the best thing to do is to set up our own people to protect our han. He's asked me to pick up this," he swung his blade back and forth, "and teach more young men how to use it. He hopes to soon open an academy to train new recruits willing to defend the peace of Karakura. But I feel like before I look up, I will be training men for an army." He smoothed his thin beard with his fingertips.

He placed his katana down once again and picked up more sushi with his fingers, chewing thoughtfully and sipping sake, wanting to recapture the good feelings he had had earlier. "At any other time, I would say that it was unnecessary but the days are changing…

"If I were you, Toshirou-kun, I would make sure not to let this Gin Ichimaru find a way to get close to whatever he has his eyes on. And remember to work your wrist at least once a day."

* * *

Karin unwrapped herself from the warmth of her blanket. She forgot that the first night of fall made everything so cold at night. Even though her door and windows were closed to keep out the season's cold breezes, a draft hung around in the bedroom and her ears felt cold now that her hair wasn't covering them. The girl slipped on her tabi, straightening up to see herself in the mirror once more.

Momo had struggled with her hair for almost two hours; it was too much for her handle at first. Her hands had been rougher than what Karin was used to. Several times, the eighteen-year-old grimaced at the feel of the comb being raked through her hair. It didn't help that the round-faced girl had a slightly nervous and fearful look on her face for most of the ordeal and that Karin could see it in the mirror.

But in the end, Momo had somehow gathered and smoothed her hair up into a very large bun, leaving no stray strands. And she added—well, Matsumoto suggested—the final touch: a long, green ribbon patterned with tiny stars looped through part of the bun and tied in a simple knot. Karin had to admit that it wasn't as horrible as she thought it was going to be.

A cold breeze blew through again. "Where is that coming from?" Her fingers parted her doors and she stepped outside her room. Everyone else's doors were closed—Momo had retired to her room early for the night and Matsumoto was out drinking with friends, so it couldn't be them. But beyond Matsumoto's door was a hallway, one that Karin had never traveled to. She remembered glancing at it during her tour, but figured her blonde guide had a reason behind not showing it to her. The trail of her sleeping yukata swept across the floor as she made her way down the hallway.

It led to a solitary room with wide, parted doors and lamp light filtering through. She opened the doors and went inside. It was a bedroom sparsely decorated with tatami mats, a platform bed, a set of drawers, and one long, low table against the wall being the only furniture. A Buddha the size of a small watermelon and two polished ihai stood on the drawers with a small vase with unlit incense sticks. The closet was fully of neatly-hung kimono and hakama; above the bed was a picture of a winged white dragon flying over rooftops.

_Toshirou's room. But where is he?_ The bedroom window was wide open. As if pulled on a string, she stepped to it and stuck her head out. There was a narrow ledge that tapered at the edge off into the downward slope of the roof. There, about a meter away was Hitsugaya sitting on the ledge with his feet hanging off the side. He looked over at her. "What are you doing?"

"I was looking for whatever was making it so cold. Why are you out here?"

"I'm thinking about…something." He held his hand out to her, clasping his fingers around hers. They were cold; he had been thinking for a long time. Her body settled near his, her head shaking as he asked if she was cold. Underneath them, the thirteenth district glowed warmly through the haze of chimneys.

"It's pretty."

He looked up, silently agreeing with her. "I moved to this room about a year ago; it's my favorite part of the house. Where you sleep now was my old bedroom."

She smiled and stared ahead, her eyes tearing up at the cool wind. She blinked them down but then suddenly realized something. "A dragon." Hitusgaya looked at her. Her finger traced the roofs of houses. "Together, they look like a dragon's back: the shingles are scales, and those beams look like fins on its back."

He smiled, a slight but soft expression. She had noticed. "Hyorinmaru. When I was little, I thought so, too. It's a Hitsugaya belief that Hyorinmaru, our family guardian, comes to our world every century to protect us. When I told my mom what I saw and thought, she told me a story about it, the story of our family. Do you want to hear it?"

She nodded.

_When Japan was first born, all its people lived in one place called Rukongai. Life passed there fairly peacefully with the people getting along and helping one another. There was no need for anyone to leave the village to find a better place: the land was abundant with food and water._

_But one day, the land was attacked by large monsters with holes in their chests and strange masks made of bone on their faces, called Hollow. The Hollow fouled and polluted the land, eating the crops and taking the souls of others and making them Hollows too. Fear overtook the people of the village. They didn't leave Rukongai; the Hollow came from beyond the village and to leave there meant instant death. Their days and nights were spent praying to all the kami for help._

_One night in the winter, a young husband and wife were visited by a kami in their sleep. It appeared in the form of a dragon with red eyes. "I am Hyorinmaru. I hear the cries of the people and offer my aide._

"_I will give you a child," it said, "and it will grow up to save the land and its people." When they awoke, the wife found she was with child. In a month, the baby had been born and given the name "Taro," the first-born son._

_Taro grew to be a strong adult in one night. The moment he grew, he went out into the wintery town and found a large icicle about a meter and a half long and began to make a sword. It took six days to make; he neither ate nor slept. At the end of the six days, he said goodbye to the wife and husband and set out from Rukogonai to the land of the Hollow, Hueco Mundo. _

_It was a perilous journey. The world outside of Rukogonai in the winter was a frozen plain of ice. But he couldn't be deterred; with his sword, he continued along the wasteland. The Hollow knew about Taro and his intent and set out to destroy him. There was no time for him to sleep; they would attack him at all points of the day and night. But he managed to make them all fall with his sword and reach his destination, Hueco Mundo._

_The land was not cold in Hueco Mundo. Winter had never touched land; everywhere was a desert of white sand. The moon always hung in the sky there and the trees there were blighted and broke at the slightest touch. He walked straight through the forest and into the heart of the land. _

_There, in the middle of a clearing, was a gaping hole with glowing red light. All around it were beings that appeared to be caught between a Hollow and human stage: their bodies were covered in fur and various markings with holes in their chests and stomachs; their masks were cracked and broken, revealing the eyes of what appeared to be men. There were so many, Taro couldn't count them all._

_They saw Taro approach them and spoke to him. "We ArE ARranCar. We kNOw WHy you aRe heRe. YOu caNnot dEstroY uS. TUrn BACk!" But he did not back down and raised his sword to them. Like a tidal wave, they rose and attacked him, falling under his sword. However, he was so weak from his journey and there were so many that the Arrancar easily overpowered him._

_Just as they approached to kill him, he looked up to pray to the kami. He pressed his hands together and made a prayer: "Sit upon the frozen heavens, Hyorinmaru." From heaven, the dragon Hyorinmaru came to him and enshrouded him in ice, protecting him with its body. The dragon gave Taro his strength and body to defeat the Arrancar and destroy Hueco Mundo. At the end of the battle, his spirit phased into Taro's sword, resting there ever more._

_Hyorinmaru and Taro were never seen by the village again, but when the people awoke from their slumber, their land was healthy and abundant with food and water and spring. The only proof their existence was an ice blade standing in front of the husband and wife's door. _

_The people were free to prosper and spread all over the Japan we know today._

Karin listened to his husky voice tell the story, word for word, smiling at its end. It was the most he had spoken to her so far; she wanted him to keep going, to tell her more stories about his family, but couldn't seem to find the words to tell him that. "That's a good story," that's all she could think of saying.

Another cold breeze came through, making her shiver slightly.

He looked at her and made a motion to move. The thoughts he was having about her and Gin Ichimaru could wait for later. "Let's go. You like summer; it's too cold for you to stay out anymore. We can go inside."

They made their way through his window and back into his room. Both of them made their way to his door, Karin stepping out the threshold in her now dirty white socks. She turned and their eyes met, jade-green and obsidian-black.

"Tomorrow, I am arranging for us to go to the mill early. Would you be ready by ten?"

She nodded. "I'll be ready." Her hands flew up to care of her hair's flyaway strands tickling her forehead and ears. Another pair of hands, Toshirou's, followed her example, smoothing them back. The black-eyed girl was well aware of his cold fingertips running over her scalp.

He didn't smile but his eyes were soft as he looked at her warm face. "You changed your hair." He made sure not to upset her ribbon. His feet pulled him closer to her. "It fits you well." His hands rested on her shoulders.

Her stomach felt like a firework had burst inside. "Thank you."

And then Toshirou and Karin got closer to one another, inches away.

And then they were kissing.

It wasn't overly romantic, a kiss guided by instinct or one where their hands knew what they were doing. Toshirou's lips felt cold; Karin's felt warm. Their breath still held traces of their dinner. Their eyes stayed half-open at the soft, unfamiliar sensation. A tingly wave of feeling passed over them separately, from scalp to the tips of fingers and toes. It was only Karin suddenly inhaling through her nose for air that broke them apart…and it was very slowly that they separated.

They just stood there, staring at each other.

It didn't feel awkward…just really good. Karin was sure he felt her body get warm; if not, he probably saw the blood rush to her face. His was still a bit closed off, but she didn't need for it to be open; she could read his every expression.

They pulled away a bit more. His hands dropped from her shoulders, their absence making her feel a bit cold.

He pulled away from her warm touch. "Goodnight, Karin."

"'Night, Toshirou." She turned to go back to her room, the doors she left behind sliding closed slowly with a small _clack_.

The house didn't feel cold to her anymore; she could only feel his lips imprinted on her mouth.

Sleep was once again long coming, but this time it was only because it was the only way she could relive the feeling of his cold skin under the solitude of her warm covers.

And he slept, dreaming of her and good things.

_

* * *

_

_A/N: And there you have it, their first kiss. I'm sorry if it felt like this was a long time coming but there were a few things I wanted to go through first. I did like writing it: I didn't want them to be awkward but I didn't want it to be the "perfect kiss." I feel like Kyokaru and Nanao were a good touch as far as Bleach cameos go (that's what I'm calling them, because it seems like I can find a way to weave one of Tite Kubo's characters in a great niche in the "FIRE and ICE" universe). You can't really have Ukitake be mentioned without his best friend and his own vice-captain. I feel like I got their personalities done very well. The mention of his story is an actual idea he had in one of the manga's omake chapters. Gin is causing more and more suspicions…ooooh._

_I got the idea to make the story halfway through writing the first chapter. I thought it would be a good thing to add Arrancar and Hollow; you can't really forget about them, you know? So that's my use for them. Taro is a character I made up, much like Megumi, Toshirou's mom._

_Overall I'm happy that I was able to do two chapters within the same week. It's going to be a minute before I come up with something new._


	6. The EastWestern Snare

**I love the Zanpaktuo, but I hate that there's another filler arc. That's the last thing we were all hoping for… My rant's over and thank you for listening.**

**The LOVE that bleached FIRE and ICE**

_An arrangement made at birth finds Karin and Toshiro married to one another. But maybe this might possibly be a good thing…and maybe this might possibly be love. AU KKxTH slight MHxSA_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach._

_AU Warning: Characters can and will appear OOC._

**

* * *

**

**Terminology:**

**Homongi: **_"V__isiting wear__."_ Characterized by patterns that flow over the shoulders, seams and sleeves, the tsukesage. Hōmongi may be worn by both married and unmarried women often at weddings and receptions. They may also be worn to formal parties.

**Honshu:** The southern-most region of Japan. Very close to China and for many years, making trade and tribute to the larger country very plausible.

**Kyushu:** is the third-largest island of Japan and most southwesterly of its four main islands.

**Suso-yoke: **rich women's underwear from the Edo Period in Japan. It looked like an apron and was used to protect a girl's "dignity."

**Western-style kimono:** I'm being clever; I hope that you figure it out, lol.

**Yakitori: **A Japanese type of skewered chicken; made from several bite-sized pieces of chicken meat, skewered on a bamboo skewer and barbecued, usually over charcoal, and served with salt, lemon juice, or Tare Sauce.

_

* * *

_

_Guard me from danger!_

_The web has entangled us two._

_I fear for you and I._

**The East-Western Snare**

Momo checked again to be sure, peeking out from under the bedcovers and listening for any man-made creaks…the house was quiet for now. It was only sheer luck that had made her able to make it back into her room before Karin had returned to her bedroom next door. Her heart was still beating; if caught, it was sure to give her away.

_I have to be quick before Matsumoto comes back, too. _The petite girl slid out of bed and felt around for her matches, a smile passing across her face as she found the desired carton. With three quick swipes, one was struck and her candles were lit and bathing in a golden glow, too faint to be detected by anyone outside the room.

Kira-sama had come again. For the past three weeks, every three days or so, he had been coming and exchanging the letters between Momo and the captain. They always met at midnight at the back gate when it wasn't possible for Shiro-chan or any of the servants who lived on the block to see them. Sometimes they said the obligatory pleasantries and other times they just bowed; he always wore a panic-stricken look on his face. After a while, Momo just thought it was because he didn't want to be caught and tried her hardest to be quick.

She had barely seen his face tonight; knowing that Karin and Shiro-chan were still awake kept her from lighting a candle for her walk across the yard. And she had had to be twice as careful not to step on that creaky stair or bump into a wall on the way there and back.

But it was exciting; it was like one her favorite novels come to life.

And it was worth it. Kira-sama hadn't given her a letter. He had given her a large, white box. It sat on her bed now with a note peeking out from under the thick, sun-colored ribbon; Momo's picked it up and opened it.

_Sept 20_

_Momo,_

_This is a gift to you straight from America. I came by it the other day on my ship and could only think of you. I hope you like it._

_-S. Aizen_

Intrigued and excited, she picked apart the ribbon and opened the box, making sure to be careful as she lifted the cover up.

She blushed in the candlelight. It was beautiful.

It was a strange garment made of a pretty material the color of plums; it was almost like her kimono except there was no opening, but a line in the middle of the back. Its sleeves puffed like blowfish at the shoulders and a strange ripple of material ran around the collar. A longer ripple started halfway down and split, flowing down and wrapping around its hem; more white ripples were in between stopping at the hem as well. Crouching to look at it more closely in the light, the white material reminded her of a spider's web…but then she noticed the pattern of flowers in it.

As she straightened her legs and began swaying in attempt to catch the ripples in its own breeze, a small sheet of paper fell out of it and to the floor. Careful not to dirty her gift, she bent down again for the scrap. On it was a picture of a woman wearing the same outfit, drawn regally with an upturned nose and long neck and painted in water colors with pretty skin and blonde hair. Someone had circled her in thin black ink. The kanji symbols Momo now knew to expect were in the corner of the sheet:

"_Western-style kimono."_

She stopped herself from squealing the excitement she felt. "A Western-style kimono. _My_ Western-style kimono. From Aizen." Her smile made her eyes crinkle.

Momo wished she could have worn it right there and then, but she needed to be back under her covers. Matsumoto could be coming back at any moment. And plus, she wanted to wear it when light was out so she could really see what it looked like on her.

With soft, padded feet, she placed her new kimono in the corner of her wardrobe, away from other prying eyes, and his note and picture with the rest in her most secretive place, a small, glossy-black chest where her hairpins were stored. As she blew out the candles and settled back under her sheets, thoughts of her and Aizen walking hand-and-hand and wearing Western-styled clothes ran through her head.

* * *

"Aizen-taicho said jus' this mornin' he's real happy he wuz abl' ta come ta yer mill." Gin said through his ever-present grin. Today, just like the first and only other time they had met all those weeks ago, he was wearing another silk kimono too expensive to be his own, this one with stripes of red, black, white, and silver running along the hems of his sleeves.

Hitsugaya looked over at the scrawny, smiling man. Though he inched away in his geometric-patterned hakama pants, he had made sure not to go too far as to create suspicion upon himself. So far, he had been trying to strike up a conversation through his icy presence alone and it seemed like he had finally found the right time to do so.

That morning, as planned, Toshirou and Karin had met the three men in front of the head office of Ukitake Paper Mill, a white stone building with red-orange roof shingles. A moment had been spent amongst the visitors to stare at the environment around them, from where people entered the building to begin work, to the river flowing peacefully behind the buildings. About the only people who hadn't exclaimed their surprise and approval in different babble of languages was the mill's white-haired owner and Tosen-taicho.

The tour had gone very well. Kotsubaki and Kotetsu had taken them to about every single part of the compound, from where the materials for the paper were housed, to where the finished piles of paper were dropped off and delivered, to the other buildings where the books were printed. Along the way, they spent time stopping a few workers to introduce them to the group, particularly Hitsugaya-sama's new wife. Now, the tour had reached its pause in the building where the paper screens were made. Their two guides had finally stopped fighting about a good place for them to stop for the moment, with Kiyone winning the round.

He looked down and over at the younger and less tall man. "When he hadn' heard from ya, he thought it wuz cuz ya changed ya mind about da tour," Gin continued. Even his pupils couldn't be seen through the fringe of short eyelashes.

"Not at all." Toshirou looked over at the two men and Karin. The Japanese girl had rolled up the sleeves of her homongi, careful not to splatter the pulp all over her neon yellow kimono and its black-etched image of a tiger that stretched sleeve to sleeve. She seemed to be working hard to make sure the paper was how it was supposed to be, thin and even.

If it wasn't for the fact that Gin was nearby, he may have been able to relax at the sight. The mill was very important to him for personal reasons, his father's hard work manifested and his personal responsibility. It was only until seeing her at the head of the group, learning about the company, asking about how everything worked, that he realized how important her knowing about the mill was to him. After all, it was hers now, too. He was happy that she was so willing to help the rest of the workers, if only to keep herself occupied and away from the bickering officers of operation.

Last night, before Karin's head had popped out of his open bedroom window, he had been mulling over Shunsui-sensei's information about the Americans and Yamamoto's plans to build an academy of fighters to protect the han. Aside from the ronin, no one else had gained any important information about what was going on; even the papers were still focused on their living in Nagasaki. There was absolutely no mention of them being able to move freely about the country. Whatever the papers were trying to hide from the public must have been really important.

But he trusted his father's old friend. His sensei had warned him to keep a very close eye on the man that seemed to be after something he owned. And so, that was what he did. For every place they went through that day, Toshirou made sure to stay close to the suspicious man, always watching him out the corner of his green, serious eye.

It was like he told Karin that morning on the way to the mill: _"There's something to him that I don't trust. It's important I figure out what."_

But even though the past two hours were dedicated to trying to decipher Gin Ichimaru of the third district of Seireiteri's actions and patterns, there was nothing to really understand from just one glance. Throughout the entire tour he had been attentive—as attentive as Toshirou could tell since the man's expression never truly denoted anything other than merriment—but…bored. He couldn't be so sure it was there; he may have been imagining it.

But…_something_ was there in the way he smiled; there was a strain at the corners of his mouth and crinkles at the eyes that the white-haired boy couldn't remember seeing during their first encounter—two slight features that the less observant man would pick up on. It was like Gin's face was being stretched along his skull simply for the sake of looking interested.

And he was twitchy: his fingertips scratched the inside of his kimono sleeves; he balanced himself on the balls of his feet whenever the tour came to a halt; his ear twitched at one point when there had been a fight about who had the honor of opening the door to the publishing office for "Histugaya-samas' honorable guests." Little things.

But little things with a big impact. From as far as he could tell from appearances, Gin Ichimaru had no interest in his mill.

_That may be the case. However…_ However, Toshirou noticed something else.

He wasn't entirely sure if he was entirely aware that he was doing it but, Gin always seemed to be within the vicinity of that captain, Sosuke Aizen, at all times. No matter what, Gin was never too far behind the foreigner, at an arm-length distance on his right.

That was what made it so interesting, that it seemed he was physically tied to that subservient position. Instead of standing at the center of their V-pattern, it seemed like Gin had withdrawn in the background. Aizen-taicho stood in the center and looked completely comfortable there in his blue uniform. Neither of them had tried to change their places at all. It was a complete shift in power from that day at Ugendo and it was important to consider.

Hitsugaya could only think of a couple of reasons for this. The first reason the white-haired boy could think of was Gin's role as a translator; it was his job to stay close to the captain and maybe being right next to his ear just made that easier. But in saying that, it had to be acknowledged that Tosen-taicho also needed a translator, but never seemed to be close enough to reap the benefits of the squinting man's service. Neither man ever stepped past Aizen's either arm.

Even now, the brown curly-haired captain in question was standing and holding conversation with his partner as the people around him worked on making paper, taking the pieces and drying them outside in their wooden frames. With crossed arms and a smile, he stared in approval at Karin working and walking back and forth, the hair of her high ponytail swinging from shoulder to shoulder with her every step. Kaname nodded at his words, a small and rare smirk on his full lips. Aside from the hilt of his sword, he posed no threat…and if he did, Toshirou knew Kotestu, Kotsubaki, and Karin could handle just about any situation on their own.

Gin continued talking, his voice garbled and never-ending white noise.

_Maybe…maybe…_Gin's intention, whatever it was, didn't involve him or the paper mill at all. Maybe it needed one American captain—any captain, but for the sake of convenience, Aizen-taicho.

If Kyoraku-san was right, the Americans were going to come into a lot of power in Japan, much more so than the Dutch who had been in the same harbor since Yamamoto first assumed the title of daimyo. With the eventual signing of papers that ended Japan's private way of life and their goal, the eventual access to everything Japan had to offer—a place for their ships, silk and other precious items and goods, and the Honshu region so close to China and everything _that_ country had to offer—they would have a strong establishment in Japan with more power than probably its own shogun.

To a man like Gin Ichimaru, whose position in society was probably not very well off and had little to no signs of improving before the day the black ships came to Japanese waters, making friends with the Americans early meant that that man's life could completely change. For the better.

"Gin-sama!" Both Toshirou and Gin looked to see Aizen trying to grab their attention. The break was over. Karin was finished with her work and had rolled down her sleeves, saying goodbye and returning the bows of the rest of the people working and praising and exclaiming about their boss's new wife.

"Heh. It seems they're ready ta go now." That same, strained smile was on his face again. In leisurely, slow strides, he made his way to the rest of the group.

Histugaya sighed as if bored with the whole situation. "I guess." He followed behind Gin's smooth gait, his eyes glued on his back.

Something told him that to do so wasn't just for his benefit anymore.

* * *

7-3. Game point: Karin.

Usually she was happy about her triumphs over her opponent. But getting really happy about hollow victories went against her moral code.

She picked up her ball and walked over to the back porch where Toshirou was sitting with his cup of water. Matsumoto was sitting a few feet away with her new romance novel with her favorites, dried persimmons and red tea.

Karin walked up to him and put her ball on the ground. "What's with you?" She asked him.

"What do you mean?"

"I _mean_, something's bothering you." She could tell; to her, it was written all over his face. In only a matter of months, Karin had figured out a lot about him: his likes and dislikes; his mannerisms and habits; his routine; but most importantly, his face.

At first glance, his face was like everything else about him—tense, guarded, and cool: his knitted brow; his firmly-fixed mouth; his overall scowl. She considered herself to be well-versed about the few slight changes she'd noticed in that brief period of time. His eyes held the most emotion and could tell someone exactly how he was feeling even if he was scowling; he never smiled, just smirked with the corner of his mouth curving up slightly; he stared into the distance and didn't blink when he was preoccupied about something; and his eyebrow twitched a little when he was mad at Matsumoto.

Sometimes she wondered if he knew about her expressions that well, too.

She sat down beside him. The sweat on her body made her feel really hot even though the dusk air made the entire atmosphere cold. Her feet dribbled her ball back and forth as she waited patiently for him.

"I don't trust him."

Karin understood. When he had told her his suspicions about that happy-smiley guy, Gin Ichimaru, she tried spending the day watching him. She hadn't gotten much to base any suspicions off of. Unlike the first time when he had ignored her, he was completely polite the second time, but hadn't asked questions during the tour—just "translated" for the Americans. Maybe she was missing something; to her, he was just a guy with a thick accent who wore really expensive kimonos and hung out with foreigners.

_No, wait…that's wrong._

His…face—_that _was something. It was hard to put a finger on what she felt when she saw it and she really didn't know what to make of what seemed to be a genuine expression. It didn't make her blood run cold—she was too warm-blooded for that. But it did make her think about every person she had met that had ever been afraid of Ichi-nii. Thinking about that grin and her brother's "mean" face only made her want to tell them all that a smile could be more…eerie than a grimace.

"There's something about him." Toshirou said again.

"Hitsugaya-sama, you worry too much." Matsumoto half-chided him. She suddenly coughed out the persimmon she was chewing and gasped at her book. "No, Mitsu-kun! She'll only be unfaithful to you again!"

His eyebrow twitched. "Shut up."

"So what are you going to do?" Karin asked.

He stared out ahead. "I don't know. Being suspicious without proof isn't enough."

Karin thought for a moment, kicking her ball back and forth. "Then you need proof. You need to find a way to watch them without being too suspicious."

Toshirou looked over at her.

"Oh, interesting…" Matsumoto mused, her eyes running over her page. It was hard to tell if she was commenting on Karin or if it was to the book.

"Remember when he said Aizen-taicho was interested in how the paper was made like and how he would really like to see it again? You could use that. If he came, Gin would have to come, too. And when they do come, you can watch both of them. You'd be able to look at Gin and look out for Aizen-taicho at the same time! And I could help, too."

"But he's already seen the mill."

"If he really likes to see paper like that, he wouldn't mind seeing it again."

"Are you sure?"

"Sure!" She turned to smile at him, her ponytail whipping over her shoulder. "It's fool-proof. And it's not like you have a better one." Her foot scooted the ball closer.

"That is true." Matsumoto piped up absently, flipping her page.

He sighed and looked down, closing his eyes. Karin was excited; that meant he thought it was a good plan (or at the very least, a plan he could go with). "You're excited about this. I can tell by your face."

She concentrated on kicking her ball a little harder. She wasn't sure if her smile just then was because of the fact he agreed to the plan or if she now knew how observant he was.

"Who knows?" He continued. "Maybe it'll work."

Whichever one it was, his agreeing made her forget for now. "Good. Because you're making me feel bad. Beating you was too easy today, it was sad. If you keep losing like that, you'll make me feel guilty about being better than you." She laughed at his angry expression.

"What? ...What are _you_ laughing at?" He snapped at a sniggering Matsumoto.

"I'm sorry, Toshirou. You just made it too easy...but I'm joking." She sobered. "We need to know what's going on anyway. I know how knowing what Gin is behind is important to you, so I want to help." She looked over at him out the corner of her eye and stopped kicking her ball.

Slowly, his anger melted until he was also smiling, one that made both the corners of his mouth curve up and his entire face soften. "I know you want to help. I can tell by your face. Arigato." He said it softly so the blonde couldn't hear.

* * *

It fit like it was made for her.

Momo couldn't be any happier.

Outside in the colorful garden, she could hear Karin and Matsumoto laughing and Shiro-chan yelling. In a few moments, all was silent.

She was alone and safe with no servants cleaning or talking to one another in the hallway and no one else who could stop her from doing what she had desired to do all day. Even now, standing at the front her closet where all her outfits laid in a display of color and cheer, her clenched fingers scratched her itchy palms.

Pushing away the kimono in her closet with delicate, slender fingers, she leafed through the old, familiar outfits she had worn many times and touched her new, Western-styled one.

Slowly, she eased out of her yukata until she was in standing in the room in just her suso-yuke and grabbed the beautiful new gift, trying to figure out how to put it on. It was put over her head but with all those ripples, it was hard to find her way inside. And after all that flailing of her arms to climb through the fabric, her head didn't fit. A few moments of close looking and she figured that pulling a small tab in the back made it _click_ open. Placing it on the floor, she stepped inside the now wide front and pulled it over her body.

_How do Americans stay decent under this? _She thought at the feel of air touching up and down her legs. She turned to stare at her mirror in the far corner.

"I-it's beautiful." Momo walked closer to the mirror and stared, putting her hand on the surface to make sure it was real. Her feet were hidden under the white material and it felt a bit scratchy on her skin, but she loved it. It felt like silk and magic over her bare chest and legs underneath. And the color and the way it puffed out around her hips made her feel like she was a pretty piece of fruit on a tree.

Turning to see the back, her neck craned to see the skin of her back and the curve of her spine; in the setting sun, her skin looked like the wood of a tree trunk. She blushed at the dark violet at how pretty it went with her.

Her hands tore off her haircloth and let her hair down, combing it a few times with her fingers. Never had the glossy strands looked so wonderful over her shoulders like that; it was even better than Karin's.

Momo felt prettier than any geisha.

This Western-style kimono to her was worth more than ten thousand geisha kimonos combined. No, no…it was priceless.

Her palms touched her face delicately, the Western-style kimono falling over her shoulder completely. She remembered how pretty the drawing of the woman was and felt the same. _No, I feel prettier than any American woman who would wear this. _

Her arms hugged her body. "Thank you, Aizen." She breathed serenely in the increasing darkness and danced in the mirror. She wanted to remember herself this way a little longer before everyone else came inside.

The white material swayed over her thighs in the man-made breeze, like leaves caught in a wind.

* * *

He looked at the paper screens of her door behind her and then back at her staring back at him. It was late and they were standing in front of Karin's door. It was time to leave each other for now. Night had fallen and Toshirou was escorting Karin back to her room.

The light of the candle in her hand made her skin glow and black, almond-shaped eyes look glassy.

The hallway was deserted with Matsumoto still reading in her room and Momo in her bedroom, humming a cheerful tune to herself.

They were safe.

They were…more hesitant than they were last night.

But hesitance could only last for so long.

They shakily leaned into each other until their lips touched and eyes closed. She felt warm, just like the night before; the breath he was inhaling and exhaling felt cold and hot. He tasted like the yakitori he had for dinner; the flavor of the persimmons she had swiped from Matsumoto was strong in her mouth. Neither of them leaned in any more than they had to or tried to overpower the other; everything between them was balanced.

The kiss was strong. Their hands still hung limply at their sides and Karin's toes flexed upwards.

But it felt better than last night's.

The colors of the world behind their eyelids seemed to burst brighter in this one, simple move.

He pulled away and opened his eyes. The feel of her on his mouth was still there.

Her shoulder blades pressed into the wooden sliding doors behind her. Her hand gripped her ponytail and yanked slightly—anything for her hand to hold unto.

Neither of them was sure if the other wanted to do it again so soon.

"Good night, Toshirou."

"Good night, Karin."

Slowly she turned and opened her door and walked inside, smiling a little so he couldn't see.

Slowly he walked to his room, opening and closing the door.

Neither of them had looked back at the other because they didn't have to. They wore the same expression.

* * *

Something was wrong about it. He was filled with foreboding.

His head lowered, eyes closed, and palms pressed. Though strange and dirty and impure, this place was as close to a temple prayer as he was going to get.

_Please guide me._ That was all he asked of the kami. He clapped twice and slipped away from the underbelly of his hiding place, his geta clacking along the ground.

_

* * *

_

_A/N: Okay! The sixth chapter a.k.a. the end of my writer's block! I have to admit that this chapter is growing on me. It wasn't when I started but I'm really getting it under my skin. I've got a little more mystery in there. I wanted Momo to be in there a little bit more to help enhance the Gin situation. I feel like that is slowly becoming more twisted, but wait as time goes on and tell me._

_When that soccer scene was first written I had to rewrite it immediately. It was different with Matsumoto catching them in a kiss and saying something funny and awkward like she usually did. It didn't feel right at all. But I like this new scene—a little bit more plot, a little fluff, Matsumoto's random outburst. And the separate scene of them kissing each other goodnight was sweet and simple again…steamy stuff will come later, I promise. I feel like Toshirou is slowly becoming more dynamic and Karin being more of herself but not as angry. They have good chemistry._

_The last scene…yeah. (lol)_

_Well, that's it. No extra cameo…sorry. But keep R&R-ing and I will have the next chapter up soon._


	7. 愚か者は急ぐ FOOLS Rush In

**The LOVE that bleached FIRE and ICE**

_An arrangement made at birth finds Karin and Toshiro married to one another. But maybe this might possibly be a good thing…and maybe this might possibly be love. AU KKxTH slight MHxSA_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach._

_AU Warning: Characters can and will appear OOC._

* * *

**Terminology:**

**Aho: **A Japanese cuss word. This one means "dumbass".

Kotatsu: is a low, wooden table frame covered by a futon, or heavy blanket, upon which a table top sits. Underneath is a heat source, often built into the table itself.

**Kuso: **Another cuss word. In Japanese this is one of many terms for "shit."

_**Nichibei Washin Joyaku**_: _"Convention of Kanagawa." _This was the document that officially opened Japan to U.S. trade and ended 200 years of the _sakuko_. The time in which I mention it is wrong though; it was actually signed in March 1854, but this story takes place in 1853.

**Ofuro: **A standing tub. Can be cylindrical or box-shaped.

**Onmitsukido: **Official name of the Secret Mobile Unit/Corps or Covert Ops, a subsection of the Gotei 13's 2nd Squad.

**Seijin no Hi:** The Japanese coming of age ceremony. Celebrated the second Monday in January and intended to recognize 20 year olds for reaching maturity. Because this holiday was made official in 1948, think of it as Momo's birthday, June 3.

**Tamagoyaki: **Japanese rolled eggs. Eaten for breakfast and are also a popular item in bento boxes.

**Yumi, Yari, and Nodachi: **Japanese weaponry. _Yumi_, bows; _yari_, polearms or spears (i.e. Madarame's zanpakuto in the shikai state); _nadachi_, two-handed sword that strongly resembles a katana.

_

* * *

_

_My head, hand, now lift_

_for your sake. My beating heart_

_yearns to be near you._

**愚か者は急ぐ** **(FOOLS Rush In****)**

Late October.

Things had changed in the past few weeks. And in the early moments of that fall morning, Toshirou was thinking about all of them.

The news about the Americans in Nagasaki had taken a turn for the worst. Despite all the politics and the rumors people had spread during the last few months, there was only one that was the truth: the shogun's representatives had met with the foreigners and signed a document called the _Nichibei Washin Joyaku_ agreeing to all their demands. Already, seemingly overnight, it was being reported that Shimoda and Hakodate had been opened for trade.

Every time he looked at a paper or spoke to one of his clients, it seemed that a different group of radicals were picking up katana, yumi, yari, and nodachi and breaking out in riots all over the country. It wasn't as bad in Karakura, but "as bad" didn't mean things were still peaceful: people were in uproar, but none so as much as Yamamoto.

Even those captains, Aizen and Tosen, were returning back to Nagasaki in lieu of the news (that was nothing to be disappointed about though; Gin Ichimaru's intentions hadn't become any more clear since the "spying" had started).

Goosebumps on his skin were the only indicators of his being cold as he stepped outside of the house and headed towards the bathhouse. A trip to the mill was unnecessary. _Karin and I can stay home today._

That was something that had changed as well. In the time since she had first arrived, their tenuous-turned-good friendship had changed before he realized it.

There were some things he remembered happening, like the first day she had finally come down to join him for breakfast. They didn't say anything much, just ate their tamagoyaki, sipped their tea, and tried to get used to the idea of sharing the morning with one another.

There were things he wished to forget, like when Matusmoto caught them kissing each other goodnight once and spent the following day teasing them mercilessly for it. (It had gotten her rightful title of "Gossip Queen" back amongst Ugendo's rumor mill.)

And still more he was reliving like the first night they kissed twice before going into their rooms and another night they spent talking about what they remembered about their parents.

He didn't know exactly what to think of it…or her now. But he knew he didn't mind.

Swinging the bathhouse door open, he kicked away Matsumoto's numerous zori to make room for his own and went inside, looking for his bath stool and filling up his bucket with hot water. _I wonder if she's awake yet_, he thought, pouring water on his white, spiky head.

Off to his right, Hitsugaya heard another splash of water and turned his head towards the sound. In the corner where the rather tall ofuro stood was a large puddle…with more water coming from the tub itself. And to his surprise, somebody suddenly emerged from the tub, gasping for air and then laughing with water dripping from their body.

In a little over two months he now knew a million things that could have given her away, but in this case, it was her hair plastered to her…_body_…that did it.

Karin's eyes opened from her dip to see _Toshirou_ staring at _her_.

"_Kuso!_" The girl's arms recoiled to cover anything she thought he could see and the things he couldn't.

She went back into the tub so fast, water spilled out of it and unto the floor again. The closest thing to she could grab was the bucket she had used, but that was better than nothing. Her arm threw it in an arch and with a clatter it fell to the floor. She had been aiming for his head. "Toshirou, why the hell are you in the bathhouse? Didn't you see my sandals outside? Or my towel?"

"No! How the hell could I know which zori are yours when Matsumoto has all hers outside?" He yelled back. His usually deep voice was a few decimals higher than usual; he sounded like he had retreated to the door.

_Damn that Matsumoto._ In the concave of the tub, Karin was using up one good glare that had Hitsugaya's name written all over it. But she didn't dare to stand up to look at him, all of…_him_, again. Or worse, have him see anymore of _her_.

Her entire face turned a shade of fuchsia. Hiding naked in a bathtub from an equally naked boy wasn't how she imagined starting her morning.

"Karin, this was an accident. I didn't walk in here to…look at you." He sounded like he was trying to hide his embarrassment now.

_I know that._ She knew the last thing he could be was a pervert. One thing she didn't question about the snowy-haired boy—and she had been questioning herself on a lot of things about him lately—was his respect for her. Looking in on girls seemed to be out of character for him anyway. Karin couldn't be mad at him even if she wanted to: she had seen much more of his skin, his chest, his muscles, his…_him_… to be mad.

"I'll leave and let you get out of the tub," he said now. "Or I can close my eyes…"

Both of those ideas sounded good, so she didn't understand why she scrambled inside the tub and tried to talk him out of it. "No, no, no. I can…wait for you to finish." She mumbled the last part of her sentence.

"What?" Karin noted how quickly he hid the surprise in his voice. "You're sure?"

"…Yeah," her voice reverberated off the tub's wall and into her ears. "I'll wait." It was the only gesture to say, "I'm not mad because this is all Matsumoto's fault" that she could think of.

He didn't answer, but she heard the sound of water splashing on the ground and the meshing sound of soap being rubbed into a washcloth. They didn't say anything and for what felt like an eternity, the sounds of him bathing were the only noises in the vicinity. She counted to a hundred on her toes and then looked at every scar she had ever gotten on her body before he declared he was done.

"I'm leaving your towel and robe near the door." His wet feet slapped the floor as he walked to the door. A few shuffling noises were heard and then the door to outside swung open and closed. Waiting five minutes before raising her head to check if the coast was clear, she emerged hastily and pruny from the now tepid water, wrung her hair out, slipped into her robe, and ran the way into the house to escape the cold air.

She looked up to see Matsumoto in a rose-colored kimono walking towards her. "Karin, do you know what's wrong with Hitsugaya-sama? I said, 'Good morning,' but he just gave me a dirty look—just like that one." She pointed to Karin's grimace.

"Aho." She said before bounding upstairs.

The blonde blinked at the insult. "What did I do?"

Momo's breath in the fall night air came out in large, smoky puffs. Kira-sama looked apologetic in the moonlight of the waxing white moon.

"You're cold. I'm sorry." He moved to take off his haori for her.

"No, Kira-sama. I'm fine!" She smiled with quivering lips. With one brave, trembling hand, she tried to hand him her letter. A frown crossed her face when he didn't accept it.

He shook his head. "He says that he is leaving for Nagasaki in the morning. To have you write him a letter when he doesn't know when he'll be back would be mean to you. He asks that this be the last correspondence between you two for now."

"Oh." Her happy smile deflated a bit.

"But he does want to know if you liked your perfume."

She nodded gleefully, thinking about the gift that had arrived with his last letter. Since receiving it, she had gotten into the habit of spraying a little on her wrists every night. Even now it was hiding in the corner of her closet where her old shoes were. "It has the most wonderful smell, like flowers and jas—" She cut herself off.

It didn't seem fair to tell all of that to a stranger and not Aizen himself. "Yes, I really like it."

His worried face softened a bit. "Then that's what I'll tell him." He looked up into the house and then at her. "Momo-sama…your face is turning red with the cold. Maybe you should go back inside." He looked grief-stricken once again. "I do not know when he will return again, but when he does, we will meet again." He bowed and began to walk away.

"Thank…oh, wait! Kira-sama!" He looked back at her running up to him.

Her frostbitten fingers pulled out a hair pin from her bun, her favorite one with a faux peach tree blossom at the end. "It's a gift I got for my Seijin no Hi. Please give it to him." With shaking hands, he accepted the gift. Momo thought he looked sadder than ever.

"I will." He bowed and walked away. "Sayonara, Momo-sama."

Karin turned another page and smiled again as her eyes danced across the paper. "'I will reject them!'" she suddenly said aloud.

"Oi, how many those are you going to read?" Toshirou asked from his place in the den, smirking at her kid-like enjoyment.

"This is the sixth one—it was the best part of this arc. Besides, I'm already done with my half." Her chin pointed to the half of the manuscript stacked on the kotatsu's table top. Since no trips had been made to the mill in the past three days, their time had been dedicated to reading the manuscripts that had once again piled up on his office desk.

Toshirou grunted. It was already early morning and unlike the girl relaxing under the heat of the kotatsu, he was tired.

He sipped the last of his cold tea and straightened his papers. "Whatever isn't done will be finished tomorrow in the morning." He picked up the cups and plates where cook had placed Karin's green tea cookies. Karin stood with the _Rejection_ story under her arm and picked up the halves of the manuscript.

She turned to look at him in his beige kimono. "I'll go put this inside the office and meet you at the stairs." Karin headed to the other side of the first floor and stopped in front of the familiar doors. Her tongue clicked in annoyance; with the book under her arm and two different stacks of paper in each hand, she couldn't open the door. Fumbling to extend her arm where the book was tucked, she finally just decided to give up and use her toe when she heard a strange noise, _sshhhzzzttt!_

She checked herself. The office was the only room in use in this part of the house; she was sure it had come from the other side. Toshirou was on the other side of the house and Momo and Matsumoto were upstairs.

_ffffffssshhhhzzztttt! _It sounded like a match being lit. She saw through the thin paper an orange spark come to life in the darkness, and then fall; it grew into a stronger flame. Someone had lit a lantern.

Karin didn't believe in ghosts. But robbers were another thing.

Her toe opened the door and she looked in to see a man with blonde hair in a black hakama shuffling through the papers on the desk. He looked up at her with a blue, panicked eye and jumped; the stone slab where Toshirou's half-dried ink was resting fell over.

The papers in the girl's arms dropped from her grasp. "What are you doing?" She asked, balling her hands into fists.

The man stood up and put his hands up in surrender. "N-n-no! You, uh, you don't unders—" His eye shifted for a moment before he pushed her out of the way and ran to the door.

Her hip felt sore the moment after she landed on it, but it wasn't enough to distract her from the intruder. The licorice-eyed girl's leg shot out and connected with his knee.

"Arhh!" He toppled to the ground but picked himself up and limped out of the door.

Matsumoto and Momo were bounding downstairs to the office where the sounds were coming from. The light was on and it felt like cold air was whooshing in. The sound of someone hitting the floor and then a cry of pain could be heard. Both women stopped in their tracks. The blonde's eyes narrowed as she saw an unfamiliar silhouette limp outside the room.

"Momo, stay behind me!" Her arm held the younger girl back.

The man held his hands up. "No, please! You don't understand!" Momo gasped behind her hand.

"Go get Toshirou-kun!" Matsumoto ordered. Momo felt the blonde's elbow in her gut. She turned and ran, but heard Matsumoto gasp and movement behind her. His, Kira-sama's hand, was yanking on her obi sash and pulling her to the side. Slipping on her tabi, she fell back and into the wall before sliding to the floor. She saw him stop in his escape in the corner of her brown eye.

"What are you doing in my house." A cold voice said to the blonde. Shiro-chan was blocking his way.

Toshirou saw him look at Momo in hesitance before deciding to attack him directly, with raised fists. The taller man swung and missed.

The white-haired boy ducked, side-stepped and swung, his jab connecting with the pale man's jaw and then again, this time in the corner of his eye. The man that _dared_ to come into his home fell to the floor. He twisted the man's arms behind him and pinned him to the floor, his knee digging into the man's back. "Matsumoto, go to the closest house and tell them to alert the authorities!"

Toshriou bowed once more to the two Onmitsukido and closed the door. Time was already well on its way to three in morning and he had just finished filling out his report.

The house was quiet again now that the officers and servants had returned home. The past few hours had been chaos with people running to sweep up the glass in the office, pick up papers, and interview him.

Matsumoto had carried a shaken Momo to her bedroom soon after the police had finished asking her questions. Karin had left soon after, her hand gently pressing her hip, and limping slightly on her way upstairs. She concerned him the most.

He walked upstairs now and traveled to what used to be his old bedroom. Shadows from inside were dancing against the paper screens, candles. He knocked before opening the doors.

Karin was curled up into a ball, her hair fanning out over her neck. Her eyes kept blinking, like she was fighting sleep. He noticed the thigh that she had been pressing was bulging underneath her sleeping yukata where she had bandaged it.

The girl's almond-shaped eyes opened and stared back up at him. "Everyone's gone?" She whispered sleepily.

He nodded. "They'll be back in the morning. Your hip?"

"It's not that bad. I've gotten worse bruises from soccer." She shifted to let him sit. Her eyes watched him look at her and away.

"Why did you go inside?" He asked.

She shrugged. "I figured me going inside to stop him would be better than him leaving with whatever he came looking for." She yawned.

"Momo…"

"She's in Matsumoto's room, sleeping maybe. She's fine, but really upset…Maybe it'd be better if we slept near each other, too."

He nodded. "I can get a futon—"

"Or," she swallowed her spit, "you can just lie down now." She could just _feel _him looking at her. But after everything that had happened and everything that happened before, she was pretty sure that she was sure of what she was asking. Asking him to sleep in bed with her at the same time should be simple…right?

He thought it was the sleep talking. "Karin…"

"Can we just sleep now and talk about it later?" She relaxed from her curled position and turned to him, heat coming to her cheeks. Her toes pulled back when they brushed on his knee. "Just don't do anything funny."

He pulled the covers at the foot of the bed over them and rested his head on the pillow. Making sure to keep an invisible line in the middle of the bed, he turned to her. She had fallen asleep for real this time, her fingers curling in her slumber. _Her mouth opens a little when she sleeps_, he noted.

Taking a final good look at her for the night, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

And though there was space between them, that didn't stop him from feeling the warmth of the body beside him.

"Hitsugaya-sama, Yoruichi Shihoin-taicho and Soifon-fukutaicho from the Onmitsukido are here," Matsumoto straightened herself from her bow.

"Send them in."

The two women walked in the den, bowing at the two eighteen-year-olds before sitting down. The vice captain didn't bother to remove her sword. Yoruichi sat cross-legged and looked at them with her golden eyes. "Good morning, Hitsugaya-donos. This may be a stupid question considering the circumstances, but did you sleep well?"

Hitsugaya looked over at Karin. The girl was sitting in her fan-patterned kimono and tapping her fingers on the table. He looked back at the policewoman. "Yes."

She gave a cat-like grin and grabbed her cup of tea. "I'm sorry to say that I have not personally looked at all four reports you and your family filed this morning. But my fukutaicho has. We would like to tell you what we've learned so far.

"Would you like to hear it?" The chocolate-skinned beauty asked.

"Of course."

Soifon pulled out a sheet of paper from her haori. "The intruder's name is Izura Kira. Twenty-two years old and the former apprentice of a doctor in the fourth district. His family is actually of the aristocratic class, very wealthy. This is his first offense." Her eyes snapped up.

"So what are you trying to say?" He looked over at the petite, pigtailed woman.

"I'm trying to say that apart from his crime of breaking and entering, everything else is an abnormality. We could only detain him on that one charge and he was able to pay the fine before we even left the station this morning, so it's obvious he didn't need money. I've read your reports and searched his person personally. He took nothing from your house and furthermore, had no weapons upon the time you found him or when he was arrested.

"He claims not to know anyone from your family or anyone associated to you in any way. No one was seriously harmed and he's deeply apologetic." She looked at the two. "Our question to you is this: Why would he specifically break into _your_ house?"

"You should be able to answer that question." Hitsugaya snapped. Karin turned to look at him, her hair tucking into the crook of her neck.

"We can't." Soifon answered back, her body tensing at the response.

The boy and policewoman glared at each other, but Yoruichi stepped in before things got out of hand. "Please excuse my lieutenant for her outbursts, Histugaya-dono. I am sorry I did not properly remind her of her temper before arriving." Soifon looked at her captain and then at her tea cup like a whipped puppy.

"We will continue to look into this investigation for the time being, but we wanted to know right now, are you thinking about pressing charges?"

"Not right now, no." Karin piped up in the conversation. The voice she was using was heated and solid in its tone.

Three pairs of eyes looked back at her. Soifon's stony face looked more severe as she knit her brow. "I don't think you understand that the la—"

"Not even the breaking and entering charge?" The taicho stepped in once more.

"Not even that." Karin said solidly, she looked from the two women to the white-haired boy as if daring them to ask her again.

The taicho nodded her head and smiled. "Understood, Hitsugaya-dono. There is nothing else for us to discuss with you at this time, but we will keep in touch and alert you when something new develops." The two women stood, bowed, and left.

Hitsugaya looked at her, waiting for an explanation.

"Soifon-fukutaicho was right—things don't make sense. He didn't take anything, just spilled some ink on some papers. And _we_ did the most damage to _him_; he barely touched us. Do you really think if he was after something we had, he would've had a weapon or would've done more than push me and scare Momo?

"Plus, when I went up to him, he kept saying, 'You don't understand.' …And if the Onmitsukido didn't after talking to him, _we_ probably won't—ever. So maybe we should let it go." He didn't say anything. Karin placed her head on the table, done with the conversation.

He closed his eyes and sighed, standing up. "I will see you for dinner." He left and walked down the hall to the kitchens where Matsumoto was sitting. She stood up in haste at his freezing glare.

"Matsumoto, do you know where my kendo stick is."

She shivered. "Eh, yes, but you haven't used…"

"Please get it for me. I would like to practice."

She fumbled before bowing once more. "Yes, Hitsugaya-sama."

Momo didn't understand anything at all.

"How could he break into the house? Why? What if he had hurt Karin really badly?" She bit her chapping lips and looked up at the full moon. Her breath floated out her mouth; she was alone for now and if felt bittersweet. The cold air chilled her to her bones as she sat on the porch.

She had heard from Karin a little after the police left everything they had learned and her and Shiro-chan's decision not to press charges. Right now, the sweet girl was caught between being multiple emotions. Everyone around her thought she was acting strange because she was afraid, but really…

She felt guilty and scared. Momo had allowed a stranger to put her family in danger. She had been the one to tell him about the back gate and it had been her who let him come in for all that time and give her letters to Aizen. He had always looked scared (and, she realized now, a little shifty) but always acted friendly and polite; what if he had been deceiving her? And furthermore, what if he was planning on deceiving Aizen? What if he had been planning something like this from the beginning?

A few tears fell from her brown eyes.

It was the need he felt to talk to her that led Aizen to use Kira as their messenger. And it was her wanting to hear Aizen that made it easy for him to break into Ugendo every time she met him. _If I hadn't met Aizen, Kira wouldn't have used him like that…_

_No, no. That's the worst thought of all. _And it sprung a dam of emotions.

How could she tell Aizen it was her fault for Kira-sama? How could she tell him she was sorry? There was no way to even find him if she wanted. How could…how…how could she tell him that if they couldn't see each other anymore?

Her hand wiped her tears. It was getting too cold but if she walked in now, Karin, Shiro-chan, and Matsumoto would probably ask her what was wrong. She couldn't bring herself to make them worry about her more. And she couldn't tell them what she had done…

A whistling sound reached her ears. And then again. Once more.

Momo lifted her head to try to find the sound and her eyes landed to the back gate. There at the top was a funny lump, like someone's head. There was someone staring at her and whistling. His hand was gripping the gate tightly as it was really high. The young girl thought she knew him…

Slipping on her geta, she walked across the yard. She could make the person out better now: silver hair; thin lips curved into a smile; pale skin; long, bony fingers. He watched her as she neared the gate, grinning more and staring at her through the slits of his eyes. Momo opened the gate and was greeted by a flower. A peach tree blossom.

"My hair pin…"

Aizen's arm was extended to her. He was smiling the same way she remembered him. "Momo…" The way he said her name…

She felt tears fall out of her eyes at the sight of him. His hand wiped them away as he looked at her with confused expression. Momo couldn't understand him any more now than ever, but she felt that the comforting tone in his voice was wrapping around her.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were going to Nagasaki…"

Gin jumped down from the gate. "We were gonna leave for Nagasaki, but we hearda Kira breakin into yer house. He said he couldn't leave without him seein ya."

Aizen was still talking to her in his strange-sounding language and bent down towards her staring at her with those sweet brown eyes. Momo couldn't stop the tears of happiness from sliding from her face. She felt a strange pressure; he was kissing the corners of her eyes where her tears were falling and mumbling something.

"He seyz he's sorry. It's his fault for askin Kira ta come here fer 'em. He seyz he'll be comin to see ya from now on.

"He wants ya ta forgive him."

She reveled in the feel of his lips pressing against her skin, her salty tears. "Yes." She nodded her head.

He pulled away and looked down at her. The moon seemed to encircle his head in a halo of light. "Arigato." He murmured.

And then he kissed her.

_

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_A/N: And that's it for the chapter! Whoo hoo! I'm really happy with how this came out. I'm so happy with both the bathroom and sleeping scene. I feel like after having them kiss, I want things to go a little faster. Plus I thought having them in awkward scenes would be a great change of pace. I was really nervous about the bathroom scene but now reading it, I do like it. Two different perspectives, a little humor…yeah._

_I liked having Yoruichi and Soifon as cameos in the chapter. I think they're pretty cool and I like having them there. I don't know why I made that Hitusgaya and Soifon would fight, but it seems kinda believable. I could see that happening. Toshirou and Karin's conversation could be considered a fight but if you don't want to think about it like that, it's fine._

_And the plot thickens with Momo, Aizen/Gin, and Kira. I do know where I want to go with this; I know what I want to do. But I wonder if you do. So R&R and give me your ideas. See you in the next chapter!_


	8. SHATTER, Kyoka Suigetsu

**So this will be the last chapter in an unspecified while. I'm heading back to school and probably won't have as much time to work on this. But throughout the semester I will try my hardest to keep writing. Thank you for reading so far and I hope you keep up with me when I come back. **

**The LOVE that bleached FIRE and ICE**

_An arrangement made at birth finds Karin and Toshiro married to one another. But maybe this might possibly be a good thing…and maybe this might possibly be love. AU KKxTH slight MHxSA_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach._

_AU Warning: Characters can and will appear OOC._

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**Terminology:**

"**If you harm…": **An actual Hitsugaya quote from _Bleach. _

**Iromuji:** Single-colored kimono that may be worn by married and unmarried women. They are mainly worn to tea ceremonies.

**Mushibi-no-Kami: **The Japanese god of Love and Marriage. Often appears as a handsome young lover.

**Kin: **Japanese boy name meaning "golden."

**Kisama: **One of two Japanese cuss words considered to be the rudest way of addressing someone ("Teme" is the other word). English considers this to mean "bastard."

"**Don't use such/Remember this…":** Actual Aizen quotes from _Bleach_.

**Shatter, Kyoka Suigetsu: **As you are very well aware, this is what Aizen says to release his zanpakuto into the Shikai state.

**Shochu: ** A distilled beverage commonly from barley, sweet potatoes, or rice. Typically, it contains 25% alcohol by volume (weaker than whisky or standard-strength vodka but stronger than wine and sake)

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_The mirror shard cuts._

_It is impossible that _

_you have hurt my heart._

**SHATTER, Kyoka Suigetsu**

Karin's hand squeezed Toshirou's as their carriage clattered its way through the streets. The lanterns of tea houses, restaurants, and theatres at night were already glowing bright; they reminded her of small bursts of fireworks. Her smile stretched wider; she felt like she would never stop smiling.

And why would she? She had just met her new favorite person: her two-day old nephew.

Newborn Kin was the cutest baby Karin had ever seen. His ears, his fingers, his nose, everything was so little. He had a lot of Ichi-nii: his downy hair was a dark shade of orange-brown and his cheeks were ruddy like his father's. And when she had rubbed her finger over his hand, Kin had given it a tight grip. About the only thing he had of Rukia's was his eyes: dark blue, almost purple.

And even though Isshin had complained about and mourned his name ("My poor first grandchild was given such a small name by my idiot son,"), she liked "Kin." It fit him perfectly.

She was only too happy to be an aunt.

Toshirou's hand suddenly squeezed hers back. She turned her head to see him peacefully staring at the lanterns with their contained fires. And while she was freezing in her furisode, he looked completely comfortable in the cold, the carriage-made wind playing through his hair and the lights passing over his calm, handsome face. Karin felt her hand tingle.

"I'm sorry my dad was so stupid. That was his brainless way of saying he likes you. Like when Yuzu hugged you around your neck." She lapsed back into silence.

Karin's stupid, beard-o dad. The moment they had arrived to the Kuchiki Manor that afternoon, he came bounding over to them in his monkey-and-duck patterned kimono. He had unfortunately seen them holding hands and felt completely justified in saying the first, stupidest thing that came to mind:

"_Kariiinn! Daddy's so happy to see that his daughter has finally found blessings from Mushibi-no-Kami. I may soon have two gran—"_

Karin's hand had released Toshirou's, balled into a fist, and slammed straight into her dad's goat-face. It had to be a personal record for him to piss her off in less than thirty whole seconds.

"He's no worse than when Matsumoto gets drunk."

She smiled. That was kind of true. "Do you think she's still drinking that 'Special Baby-Birth Celebration Shochu'?"

He looked ahead into the nightlife. "That airhead." His hand tightened around hers for a moment before relaxing.

The carriage clattered into the thirteenth district. Ugendo was only a little ways away.

Of course…Karin hadn't punched Isshin as hard as he deserved because she didn't know if he was just half-joking…or if she was really being that obvious.

She knew she _liked_ Toshirou more than she liked any other guy she had ever met. She liked all their differences; she liked how hard he worked to make the mill successful; how the two of them were friends. Karin had never been interested in Shinkendo, but she admired his dedication to the art; it was hard to take her eyes away from the power and skill and concentration put into his practice sessions. And she liked his hair, his cold hands, his eyes…she liked kissing him.

And since she had moved into his room that night after the break-in, she liked the way he slept on his back, hair mussed, fingers and feet twitching…and the way he only turned to his side and opened his eyes to look at her every morning.

She found herself thinking these things about him more and more lately. And she felt like that was okay because she liked him.

But _love_? Karin didn't think what she was feeling the same thing her parents, Ichi-nii and Rukia, or Yuzu and Jinta felt. How could she? There were so many reasons: they had only met a few months ago; she had never been in love before; she didn't know how he felt.

At least these were the reasons she told herself…they didn't seem too convincing.

"What's wrong?" Toshirou looked over at her now.

The carriage was slowing. They were already in the thirteenth district; it wouldn't take that much time for them to reach home.

It was only now she realized she had been staring at him. "Nothing's wrong. I was just wondering if…Momo was still awake. I wanted to hang out in her room for awhile before going to sleep."

"It's not too late. Maybe she's drawing…" A sudden burst of light lit up his entire face. He looked up and his eyes widened considerably, his body going completely still.

The carriage came to a complete stop.

Karin followed his gaze and found her body freezing too.

It was Ugendo, bright as—brighter than—a candle, in the night. And it was going up in flames.

* * *

Momo felt her cheeks turning pink at the sight of him sitting at the table in the den. Her hands shook as she poured the tea into his cup.

"Ne, ne, Hinamori-chan! Yer shakin like a leaf!" Gin gestured for the brown-eyed girl to calm down. He was standing at the bookshelf in the room, rubbing his fingers over the books and then flicking away the bit of dust covering the tomes. "Americans er less inta tea ceremonies than us. Yah don' hafta be so formal."

"Oh." Momo put the teapot down, glad to be spared. She looked at her two guests again.

Karin and Shiro-chan had left for the sixth-district to see Karin's new nephew and Matsumoto had left for drinking with her friends. Momo had been by herself for hours, getting ready for Aizen to come at midnight, as he had been since returning from Shimoda. Usually they—she, Aizen, and Gin—stood outside while the silver-haired man kept watch and translated. And in the cold, Aizen always held her hand and looked at her with his brown lantern-lit eyes and gave her a sweet smile and kisses.

But tonight had been too cold.

So she let them in.

Momo tucked her legs under herself and used her hands to iron out the wrinkles in her honey-colored kimono. She didn't speak; this felt much more intimate than when they were outside even with Gin standing in the room, staring at the books. _I wish it was just me and Aizen_.

Aizen spoke suddenly and Gin answered gleefully before laughing.

"Wh-what did he say?" Momo asked.

"Oh nuttin. He's jus enjoyin the solitude of the room…Does Hitsugaya-sama work in here now?"

"Mmhmm, just for now. It's been too cold in his office since Kira-sama…"Aizen gently lifted her chin. Her eyes had lowered in guilt as she remembered the pale blonde's break-in those weeks ago. She smiled at the kindness in his bespectacled eyes.

"He seyz there's nuttin fa ya to be 'fraid of. Nobody's seen Kira-kun since he left. He's not a threat to anyone now." Gin came to the table, poured his tea and took a sip. The den was encased in a shell of silence.

His fingertips held the cup delicately, tipping back and forth as if it were sake. "Hitsugaya's a lil suspicious a me." Gin said through thin lips.

"Oh?" Momo said suddenly, her brow furrowing. It was news to her.

"Yeah…since th' first time we met. He doesn't think I see it, but I do…I dunno why, tho."

Momo couldn't understand why he was talking about Shiro-chan so suddenly. Her eyes switched over to Aizen sipping his tea. He didn't look like he understood anything he had heard, not even her cousin's name.

"Ah, maybe it's _that_…I've been tol' Imma scary guy." Gin's left eye opened slowly, fully scrutinizing her. "Hitsugaya-sama doesn't look scareda me and _you_ don't look scareda me…but Kira-kun did." Gin swished the cup and took a sip politely.

"Do ya think I'mma scary guy, Hinamori-chan?" He asked jokingly.

The air changed under the weight of that question. Momo didn't understand why he was telling her any of this, but her brow furrowed. She didn't like it.

"No." Her hands shook, but not because she was scared. She wished the captain could understand Gin to tell him to stop.

"Hm…You don't, but he does…Maybe he's afraid I'm gonna do something ta his mill when he least expects it. Like…tonight." Gin's grin stretched.

A sliver of fear crept from her chest to every inch of her scalp. Momo's eyes widened. It didn't feel like he was joking.

"But I don' care about his mill. Maybe ya can talk ta 'im. Tell 'im Gin's a nice guy and he shouldn't be scareda _me_ hurtin his mill."

"Toshirou's not scared of anyone." Momo said this harshly, heat creeping to her face.

Gin's eyes opened and her stomach twisted at the severity in his sky-blue eyes. Her heart sped up for a second and then calmed at the sight of them. There were pale blue, almost silvery. Belatedly, her mind came to the revelation that they were beautiful. But, on him, they were so unnatural, so…_sinister_. A chill crept down her spine.

"Hmm…tha's good. 'Cause he should be a brave little peach like you."

Momo looked at Aizen. His face was serene and his wavy locks fell over his eye. He still hadn't spoken; maybe he couldn't hear the tone in Gin's or her voices.

She was torn but soon came to a decision, her eyes dropping back to her lap. Her hand tightened around her kimono. "M-m-maybe you should leave with Aizen. Everyone will be back soon; you'll be caught if you stay."

The skinny man smiled and pouted at the same time. "Aww, Hinamori-chan. I'm sorry. Will ya get inna lot a trouble? Did I make ya scared? Ya don't have to be scared."

"I'm _not_." Her voice was steel.

"Good. 'Cause then ya'd be scareda the wrong person." He slurped the last of his tea.

_Wha—?_

All of a sudden, the young girl felt something strike her across the face—hard. She looked over to see Aizen holding the sheath of his sword in hand, a smirk across his kind, beautiful face. Pain gave birth on her cheek and spread. Momo felt her lips move, but heard no sounds. And then everything went to black as her body met the floor.

* * *

Toshirou felt as if the entire world had been turned sideways. He left the carriage and walked past the stone fish and dragon into Ugendo subconsciously; his eyes stayed glued to the house, ignoring the chaos around him.

"Hitsugaya-sama!" Matsumoto bounded over to them, clutching her stole and moving away from the warmth of the house to the cold of the outside world. Her eyes looked a bit glazed over with sake, but she was coherent enough.

"What the hell happened?"

"I don't know. I just got here, too. The servants behind us, they said it started about half an hour ago on the left side." She pointed to where the den was and his room above. Flames licked the windows and the walls. "They…some…of them were going to find help." She panted, her hand resting over her ample chest.

He looked up and around at the people scurrying around his house and the growing crowd of spectators. It was like the whole of the district had wandered to his house. But through the throng of people, there was one person he didn't see.

Hitsugaya turned to Karin in absolute horror and then looked at Matsumoto out the corner of his eye. "Where's Momo, Matsumoto? Where's Momo?"

She paused in her rest, her eyes like two blue moons. "I…I don't…"

He tore himself away from her and Karin and ran towards the left side of the house, the fire's epicenter. Flecks of the burning building crackled in his ears and black smoke filled his eyes. He felt the heat on the right of his body, the cold on the left. Some of the servants were ambling in their sleeping yukata with buckets full of water. Black steam turned to gray ash in the sickly purple sky. A burst of flame crept up from the first floor to the second. Shouts of others around him screamed for more buckets and hands, but it all sounded like wind lost on a cold plain of ice.

He knew that it would be too late; it had probably already spread to the other side of the house.

_Momo is most important right now._ He ran to the back of the house, in hopes she was there.

Not a soul was in the yard. Toshirou knelt to the ground trying to get his wits about him. He felt completely lost.

The back gate creaked opened, hit the wall, and bounced back. It was a heavy door; only a strong wind or a hand could make it open like that.

_There isn't a wind_. Foreign laughter filled his ears.

Toshirou heard his blood in his ears and felt his stomach climb up into his esophagus as he rushed towards the back gate, his head swiveling wildly for the source of the sound. He saw two figures walking leisurely away from the fire. Both were tall men, one wearing a kimono with hanging sleeves, the other in dark clothes that couldn't have been a hakama. In the firelight of what was becoming his old childhood home, he saw a shock of silver hair. "You…"

The two men turned and Toshirou was looking up into the smiling, sadistic face of Gin Ichimaru.

The shock that stilled his body cracked. His feet raced to the man, fist at the ready. "Kisama!" He was going to wipe the smirk off his face. "Kisama!" He was going to pluck his eyes out of his head. "_Kisama!_" He was going—

A flash of pain stuck his face and he stumbled. His knees buckled to provide him support before he hit the ground. The taste of metal filled his mouth and liquid ran from his lip to his chin, the taste and feel of his own blood.

Aizen looked down at him with the same kind face he always wore.

"Aizen…?"

"Don't use such strong words, it makes you look weak. Approaching this situation in anger will surely threaten the light of your senses and wit, Hitsugaya."

"You…"

"Speak Japanese. Quite well. Giving you the illusion of being unable to understand you served my purposes better."

"_You_ did this…?"

"The house, no. Your mill," Hitsugaya's eyes widened, "no." His bespectacled face was the epitome of calm. The glare of light on his glasses covered his eyes.

Gin grinned.

"What did you do?" Neither flinched at the sound of the steel in his voice.

"Nothing. Just put the right pieces together in the places I wanted since the beginning. There are few things that have happened that I didn't want.

"The moment you met Gin, you felt exactly what I wanted you to: suspicion. And in feeling that way and striving to decipher him, you showed me everything I wanted. Each time we met, you showed me more. Times when your eyes were on Gin, I was free to observe. You, your workers, your house, your mill…your family."

Hitsugaya remembered that first day when they had come to the mill. Aizen speaking to that other captain, Kaname Tousen, his eyes focused on everyone working and…Karin.

The blood flowing along his chin felt cold but he had to keep his mind focused. "Where's Momo?" Aizen smiled. "Answer me!"

"I thought I needed another hand when I realized you and your wife were moving in a way I didn't want you. She, quite literally, fell at my feet, and I helped pick her up. She worked very well as a second key. She was a good pawn, very sweet—just like the peach she is."

Gin laughed, his voice in a mocking, feminine voice. "'Aizen, I love my new dress. It is very special to me and I have placed it into my closet so that no one will ever see it. I wear it every night when the others are asleep'!" He doubled over in laughter, wiping a tear from his squinted eye.

Toshirou looked over at the laughing skeletal man. "If you've made her shed even one drop of blood…I'll kill you."

"Hm. Remember this, Toshioru. Admiration is the furthest from understanding. People reach for understanding simply for self-purpose."

Toshirou brushed off the humorless non-sequitur. "Why did you do this?"

"I want to stand at the top of Japan. Japan has kept itself closed off since the dawn of time. Other places have opened their doors, but Japan has stayed the same, a timeless empire. New ideals and ambitions have been kept from springing new minds and impossibilities. And the people of Japan have allowed themselves to continue this way living their lives under the thumb of apathy never to stand…

"About the only man who is placed above these things is your emperor, whom you've made into a demi-god. But your emperor is a man that's been given godly abilities—his mind and ways of thinking have been fed; he cannot stand over an empire."

Toshirou spat out the blood that filled his mouth and wiped the drying blood. "And you can."

"Not yet…"

He stared at the man in his strange uniform, examining the sword jutting out from his side. "Is that the ideal of your country?"

"No, these are simply my ideas. I plan to stand above countries of men, above a falsely-placed god, and show that one—a man simply spurned by godly ideals—can stand on what has been a timeless empire.

"And you have shown me the means by which I can do so."

Toshirou didn't understand his reasoning and watched dumbly as he and his henchman begun to walk away down the street. He made a motion to follow, but a scream pierced his ears. His body turned back to the house.

* * *

Karin watched Toshirou run to the side of the house, dumbfounded at everything happening. They had left the house in perfect condition ten hours ago, and now it seemed the entire world was ending. This house was important to her and Toshirou…it was his life, his family.

"His family!" Karin looked around her. Matsumoto had already recovered to assume her role as Toshirou's assistant and Ugendo's caretaker and was mobilizing the men in the crowd. A few others were creeping through the crowd with heavy buckets, waddling towards the burning building. They were splashing more water on the ground than the house.

"Matsumoto! Matsumoto!" The blonde looked bewildered at the girl grabbing the arm of her kimono. "I'm going inside!" She turned to go.

"Karin, you can't go inside!" The roles changed as Matsumoto reached for the girl. "Hitsugaya-sama wouldn't forgive me! We don't know where Momo is—she could be, be anywhere. Why would I let you go?"

"Because I need to get something!"

"It's probably already gone! Stay here!"

"No!" She slapped the blonde's hand away. "It _can't_ be gone yet! It's too important! Toshirou has to have it, _he has to_—let go!" Her hands threw off the older woman, grabbed a bucket of water from one of the men and poured most of it over her strawberry-red iromuji, the last bit splashed on her face and trickled over her head. She ran long strides into the compound and hopped past the broken door and into the fire.

It was like being on the inside of a kotatsu pan or a stove. The fire roared over the corner of hallways and along the sliding door. Bits of the charred ceiling were falling down around her, flicking up tiny bits of charred wood and ash. One landed near her leg and she stomped it out quickly, the flame eating through her tabi and into the sole of her foot. Karin ripped away a bit of her kimono and wrapped around her mouth and nose, tying it into a knot. Her brow sweated under the helmet of her hair.

She continued until she stopped at a familiar place: the office doors.

Smoke filtered through the cracks at the bottom and the opening. Her fingertips pushed the doors open and she walked inside through the smoke.

The fire had stretched from the floor to the ceiling, over the windows and the Buddha, sake set, and plants resting on the sills. It had gotten as far as the bookshelf to her left. All the _Rejection of the Twin Fishes_ were curling up in the flames.

But that wasn't what she came in for.

Her eyes went to the other side of the room where the fire was less severe. There it—_they—_were: Sogyo no Kotowari and…Hyorinmaru. Karin touched one of Sogyo's hilts and yelled at the heat that seared her hand. She ripped more of her iromuji and threw the two-handed zanpakuto to the floor, wrapping the hilt in the fabric. The same was done for Hitsugaya's sword, her mask going around the hilt.

The girl's lungs heaved at the on-rush of heat filling them.

The hard part was done.

Karin moved on to the last things she needed—the pictures. Her fingers reached the pictures from their places on the wall, careful not to tear them. She put them into her kimono and over her chest for protection. _Better wet than gone_. The only acknowledgement of pain she had was her sole touching the floor as she ran outside of the room and through the hallway and to the front. Her feet slid as she came to a sudden stop.

The fire had crept to the door, a foot-high wall. She had a chance; it hadn't made the door collapse yet, but she needed to get out. Her teeth ground against each other and the bronze star of Hyorinmaru dug into her arm; she wanted to think that it was Hitsugaya uncharacteristically pinching her.

The last thing Karin was afraid of was fire and today wasn't going to be the day she started. And there was someone important to her outside. She couldn't leave him behind.

She counted to three in her head and ran straight to the flame, her hair flying out behind her.

* * *

Matsumoto screamed again.

Toshirou was trying to break through the group of men holding him back. Indignant, angry words came from his mouth and he clawed at the man whose shoulder was digging into his chest. Tears of anger were welling up in his eyes; his hand was no closer to the house burning in front of him.

He had made it back to the front of the house where the sound had originated from. When he had approached the front, he had found Matsumoto sunken to her knees, hands over her mouth and tears in her icy blue eyes. She kept shaking her mane of blonde hair.

More people in the crowd wore her face, gasping and gaping like fish, too uncaring to help.

There was no Karin.

His world came crushing down. He didn't see her anywhere at all. His heard the dull roar of the fire behind him. It all clicked inside of his head.

…

…

_Karin._

…

…

_Karin!_

"Matsumoto! Where's Karin? Where is she…WHERE THE HELL IS KARIN?" He shook her hard, her head knocking back and forth. His breath was growing more and more ragged in panic.

It seemed to rouse her. "She went to the house! She went inside of the house! I…_I tried to stop her!_" She burst into tears and ripped the stole from her shoulders.

_No…_ He ran to the house's gates. _No!_ He tried to get through the iron gates, pushing past men coming from the side of the house, the ones who had failed in stopping the fire that was now over the roof and coming down to the other side where Karin was.

Their hands tried to restrain him, but he pushed past them. They were a small huddle in his mind; his demons, fears were much bigger.

Momo, his cousin and only blood relative, was nowhere to be found.

His house, the one that had always been in his family, where he had grown up, where the ihai of his dead mother and father were, was on fire.

Aizen, a soldier he had allowed into his house and let orchestrate his whim under his nose, was behind it.

And his _wife_ had gone into the house.

Arms grabbed at him, trying to hold him back, trying to keep _his wife_ away from him.

"Let me go!" More were trying to restrain, telling him that he couldn't go inside, it was too dangerous.

He wanted Karin. He needed her. If she was the only thing he had at the end of this, then so be it. He needed her.

They pulled him back once more and succeeded in making him sit on the ground. Their grips lessened a bit on their young benefactor.

"You _can't _go inside, Toshirou!" Matsumoto screamed with her hands balled like an eight-year-old's and her tears free-flowing.

"Shut the hell up! Don't you tell me not to go save my wife! It's _your_ fault she's in there!" He yelled before suddenly springing up to run again. The men grabbed him once more. He scratched and yelled. If he had to fight to go into Ugendo, he would do so.

"Karin! Karin! _Karin!_"

"Toshirou?" A choked voice answered him.

He looked to see her standing in front of him with wide eyes. Her arms were cradling something and her face looked demonic with her hair falling over it and black smudges on her face. Her kimono was destroyed, torn and burnt in some places.

He stared at her as if she had come back from the dead. But he was sure it was her.

The men that had held him back went to her, grabbing the bundles and the papers she pulled out from her kimono. Her hand flew up to her mouth and she coughed violently.

His feet walked over to her. His hands touched her hand, her kimono sleeves, her shoulders and collarbone. The cold mask he usually put on his face for the world to see fell in pieces when she looked at him.

Green eyes looked into oil-colored eyes shedding drops of water. Karin gasped and sobbed, crying underneath the shelter of the stone fish and dragon.

His arms wrapped around her and his fingers tangled in her hair as he pulled her close. She smelled like smoke and her kimono was damp. The sound of her wheezing filled his ears and her chest heaved. Karin coughed into his neck and sobbed some more.

But he held her close.

And he pressed kisses to her face.

_

* * *

_

_A/N: Chapter 8 is finally done. It took me awhile to get to this, but it was great and well-worth the time it took. The first part was so hard. Everything I kept coming up didn't feel right especially Karin telling what she liked/loved about Toshirou. I love baby Kin. I spent a day looking for a good name for him so I'm happy that "Kin" works. If Ichigo and Rukia had a baby, he may or may not look like that—after all, both parents have some distinctive features. Ah well, he had a quick cameo, but the idea of him is too cute. (That's for all my fellow IchiRukia fans out there!)_

_Aizen has finally revealed his plan. I'm iffy about his explanation. It seems like it would be him but I don't know. I have an explanation about why he picked Toshirou in the next chapter. Where's Momo? The next chapter's got that answer, too._

_And my favorite section from a writing perspective is the Karin-house scene. I've been thinking about that since the beginning of this fanfic and it finally came out and it was twice as good as I imagined. I hoped you like it too because I have plans for it later._

_But like I said up above, I have no idea when the next chapter is coming out which sucks because I really really want to give it to you. And I feel like I've reached the fanfic's climax. I need to write it for my piece of mind. But it's all good. Just keep me on Story/Author Alert and when it gets out, it gets out. But thanks for all the love you've shown me so far._


	9. The BLEACHING EFFECT

**Thank goodness my semester is over!**

**The LOVE that bleached FIRE and ICE**

_An arrangement made at birth finds Karin and Toshiro married to one another. But maybe this might possibly be a good thing…and maybe this might possibly be love. AU KKxTH slight MHxSA_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach._

_AU Warning: Characters can and will appear OOC._

**

* * *

**

**Terminology:**

**Edo: **Trans. "estuary;" the original name for Tokyo; the name changed when it became the imperial capital in 1868.

**Irori**: Japanese fireplace. Sometimes appears as a pit in the middle of a traditional Japanese home's floor or is a kettle suspended from a chain attached to the ceiling.

"_**I don't know what to think anymore,"**_**:** An actual Hinamori quote from the _Bleach_ universe.

**Kachan and Tochan: **Trans. "mother" and "father". The use of these terms connotes a sense of closeness between Toshirou and his parents.

**Kagutsuchi-no-Kami: **The Japanese god of Fire.

**Kenchinjiru:** A Japanese clear soup with lots of vegetable and tofu. It's good to add various mushrooms and other kinds of potatoes too.

"… _**remember this. There are two types of fights..."**_**:**An actual quote of Ukitake's from _Bleach_. Originally said to Rukia the night of Kaien's death and slightly modified.

**Tsuyu: **A soya-based dipping sauce added to soba noodles before serving.

**Zaisu: **A legless chair.

_

* * *

_

_Upon the night that Karin is finally starting to realize her feelings for Toshirou, they return home to the burning Ugendo Estate. In a state of desperation to find Momo, Toshirou encounters Aizen and Gin who admit to being the ones behind burning the house and reveal their quest to own the paper mill and "stand over Japan." Karin, meanwhile, rushes into the burning to save Hyorinmaru and Sogyo no Kotowari. She escapes, but not without damage._

_

* * *

_

_Ice and fire. Never_

_can they mix. In steam, I float_

_above to find you._

**The BLEACHING EFFECT**

"…_Her right palm, left fingertips, and the sole of her right foot have first and second-degree burns." The Kuchiki doctor, Retsu Unohana, said calmly, folding her hands demurely in front of her. "Her lungs are also full of smoke; she may experience some respiratory problems for a while. Hitsugaya-chan must not do much strenuous activity." _

_Toshirou nodded numbly. One of the physician's gentle hands floated to rest on his shoulder. "Hitsugaya-san, Kagutsuchi-no-Kami was very kind to her. It may take the winter for her to heal, but I can assure you she will be fine…"_

The room gradually flooded with bright light; Toshirou could now see everything inside of the bedroom-turned-infirmary. The sun illuminated the paper screens and he was surrounded by the images of crimson roses in bloom. The Kuchiki Manor was finally silent, him being the only one still awake.

_Dawn_. He honestly could not believe that he was seeing it again. It felt like he had been through Hell twice in the past few hours. His body was exhausted, but he wouldn't sleep yet.

_He_ _could not sleep yet_.

"_Ugendo…is i-in ashes."_ That was what a teary-eyed Matsumoto said upon arriving to the manor hours after he left. _"We couldn't save it…only the guardians are left. I'm really sorry, Taicho." _

Momo was…safe. In the servants' first attempt to contain the fire, a few brave ones had entered the burning house. She had been found unconscious and removed from the den where the fire was most widespread. In the chaos of the burning estate, she had been placed in one of the servants' houses and forgotten until the very end. Now, she slept in another room with a bandage under her left eye and some smoke in her lungs.

He was relieved at the fact that she was safe…

But he still had questions—about Aizen, about Ugendo. And she was the only one who could answer them.

And the mill…he didn't know anything about the mill.

And Karin.

He looked down at the tiny bed she slept in alone, the one she was placed in when he had returned to the Kuchiki Manor and the one he stood over as he waited for the doctor to arrive. Karin, her destroyed irojumi replaced with one of Rukia's kimonos, slept in a tight ball. She never uncoiled or stirred; the white gauze of her bandaged hands and foot peeked from under the blankets. The only clue that made Unohana-san's assurances true was the soft rise and fall of her chest.

His hand moved impulsively, touching her downy baby hairs and moving into the greater mass of her longer strands. It was his unfulfilled hope that his touch would smooth her furrowed brow.

Toshirou eyes grew cold as the now wiry ends of her black hair slipped through his fingers. From halfway down her back to its tips, it was singed, the last visible and lingering touch of the fire on her body. As his fingers combed through the charred ends, he felt like it was a reminder of how he failed to keep her safe.

Karin wasn't a vain person; her having or not having hair did not affect her. But he knew that it went beyond vanity…

"_We all used to cry a lot when we were younger, even Ichi-nii. But we always smiled when we saw our mom. We were everything for each other. I remember she used to let me curl up in her lap and smooth my hair whenever I was upset. And it was long, so she would be there forever, just smoothing it. I think I used to think the longer it was, the more time I would have her to myself…"_

That's what she had said that one night they spent talking about their parents.

From where they stood between the two bedroom windows, Hyorinmaru's and Sogyo no Kotowari's blades gleamed in the growing sunlight. They and the pictures were the only things left. They were infinitely important to him now; he couldn't imagine them being lost to him now. But he felt that if he had been asked to trade between them and Karin being safe from the fire, he would have parted with them willingly.

Karin was…special to him. It was hard to put into words how or when exactly he started to feel this way, but he had never been unsure of his feelings and decisions before and this time was no different. In a few short months, he had gone from not wanting to be in the same room with her to always seeking her and her opinion. Losing a zanpakuto was not so unbearable if it meant she didn't feel like she had to risk going into a fire for him. Or if it meant that he didn't have to see a tear fall from her eye…

It was only a few hours ago that he realized that when Karin cried, it was with the emotion of losing a loved one.

With bloodshot eyes, he continued to comb his fingers through her hair.

And he thought.

* * *

"My men speculate that the fire to the mill begun early this morning. Its epicenter was a smaller storage house and had spread to five buildings before the fire department arrived. The overall damage to the compound, however, is minor." Yoruichi said.

"Looking at Hitsugaya-sama's report, the other American taicho, Kaname Tousen, was not at Ugendo at the time and despite the descriptions of his visual handicap, I am considering him to be our prime suspect in the incident." She looked up from her paper.

Rukia and Ichigo nodded from their places across the table of the Kuchki Manor's meeting room. They refrained from bringing their cups of tea to their lips. Their meeting with the police captain, despite their exhaustion, was on Hitsugaya's behalf; they had only been too willing to let Toshirou and Matsumoto finally rest. Byakuya sat off to the side in his own official garb, holding a swaddled baby Kin in his arms. The baby's eyes were closed shut and his cheeks puffed adorably.

"We have begun a search, but so far, we have not been able to find any trace of the three suspects. It's possible they've have hidden themselves in another district of Sereiteri or have manage to escape Karakura in the confusion." Her eyes drunk in Ichigo's hand tightening around his disregarded cup. "If that is true, it will be a very long process before we can prosecute Gin Ichimaru. And because Aizen and Tousen are not Nipponese, we may not be able to do anything at all."

"And then what? They're able to go off and go back to where they came from?" Ichigo's voice was heavy with anger.

"It is a possibility, Kurosaki-san."

He looked up at the police captain with angry brown eyes. "My sister and Toshirou's cousin got hurt in that fire! The Onmitsukido didn't do anything when they first arrived; now they're not even going to protect the people of this han from those bastards?"

Byakuya looked over at the strawberry-head and then at the bundle in his arms. Kin yawned sleepily, his mouth suckling the air. He was indifferent to his brother-in-law's anger.

The commander of the Onmitsukido didn't bat an eyelash at his hollow ramblings.

"Ichigo," Rukia's eyes snapped over to her husband, "you're not being fair. Everyone was fooled by the taichos and this Ichimaru person. Toshirou-san feels the worst about what happened: he had had suspicions about them all along, but was unable to act on them until it was too late. But he's put his confidence in the Onmitsukido; we should try to do the same." He made a move to say something else, but nothing came out. His body relaxed slightly, an indicator that her words had worked on him.

"But what I can't understand why is Aizen needs the mill." She continued to muse. "How does it play into him 'standing over Japan'?"

"We have our suspicions…"

"Books and papers." Byakuya said, his soft, yet powerful voice attracting the attention of everyone in the room. He looked up from the sleeping baby. "In Japan, books and papers are used more than swords to influence, to educate, to spread ideas, to establish law. It must be the same in America, too. To control these things enable that person to spread his thoughts and mission as far as five han; he could surely find people who will follow him.

"It is important that that person does not gain such power not merely to rectify the situation, but for the pride of Japan itself." The Kuchiki heir stood and floated to the door. He turned back from the paper screen of blooming sakura branches and looked at the rest of the party. "It is time for Kin's nap; I shall put him to sleep as you three continue conversing."

* * *

Momo's head shook furiously, the tears on her face falling freely now. "No, please don't! Please don't kill Aizen, Shiro-chan!" She began to wipe the flood of tears falling from her eyes, her fingers gingerly over the gauzed cut.

Toshirou looked down at his older cousin. Despite all the sleep she had had, there were dark bags under her eyes and she was shaking slightly as if she was cold despite the warmth in the guestroom. Her fingers gripped the sleeves of the periwinkle kimono given to her.

It had been too early to tell her his ambitions; but now that he had said it, there was no way he would take his words back. Part of him felt bad about talking to her when she was still distressed.

However, it was another part of him that made him turn from her and towards the window. He didn't want her to see any traces of disgust that may have been on his face.

She painfully lifted her body from her covers, and bowed, her forehead pressing against the futon. "I beg you, please!"

He closed his green eyes, his face set in a grim line. "Sosuke Aizen is responsible for last night, Momo."

She didn't lift herself from the top of her futon. Her hair cloth swayed from side to side as she shook her head. "No, no, no, he couldn't have done that. He _wouldn't_ have—"

"He did. He told me himself."

Her head lifted, tears falling from her puffy and swollen red eyes. She hiccupped. "Please, Shiro-chan? Please don't kill Aizen…he couldn't have done those things. I-i-it was that man, Gin Ichimaru! He said he did something to the mill… H-h-he's manipulating Aizen! Aizen is too kind…and _nice_…to have done anything…"

Toshirou looked over at her. Momo's chest was starting to heave; the smoke in her lungs was finally getting to her. It was still too early for her to be talking for so long, let alone screaming. He couldn't bring himself to comfort her however—not when she was acting like this.

"He left you for dead and…I hold him responsible for what happened to Karin. His fire almost killed Karin, Momo."

"_It wasn't his fault!_" She began to cough violently. Her hands branched out and began to hit him, her small fists beating against his shoulders and chest, lessening in spite of her growing fury. She was done playing nice, but her energy quickly fleeted; she was still too weak to do anything more.

Toshirou gently but firmly held her wrists, restraining her; his were cold as ever. "You need to sleep. I'll call Hanataro-kun to bring you your sedative." He helped her under her futon, making her comfortable once again.

"Shiro-chan," Momo said as he walked over to the door, his gray kimono rustling with his footsteps, "_please. _I-I don't know what to think anymore. But I _love_ Aizen. It's not possible-he couldn't have done that."

He paused and turned back to her. He wiped the look of surprise off his face from her confession and replaced it with one of ice. Momo clenched her eyes shut at his indifference and shame in her words, tears coming from her fringe of eyelashes and sliding down her face once more. She looked helpless wrapped up in her bedcovers.

Without another word, Toshirou left the room.

* * *

Kyoraku followed the baozi with a gulp of sake. "If Jushirou were here, I'm sure he'd be happier to know everyone survived the fire, even if the Ugendo compound itself didn't."

Toshirou nodded his head in agreement. The two were in Toshirou's small guest room in the Kuchiki Manor. As the sky had changed from buttermilk yellow of the morning to milky-gray of late afternoon, his sensei had arrived to the manor asking to see Toshirou. Now they sat on the floor, Kyoraku drinking the sake he brought and Toshirou leaving his own cup untouched.

"I arrived the same time as Karin's father and sister, but decided not to go into her room with them. In this moment when hearts are the heaviest, family comes before friends…" He mused.

He looked at Toshirou's hand clenched in anger. He put his sake cup away for a moment; the air was making it thick to the tongue and heavy in the belly.

"But, _ano_, there's a reason why I am here today. But first…" He straightened up, opened the bedroom door, and stuck his head out. "Ah, please come in now. I'm ready for you."

Toshirou watched as a young man entered the room. The pale yellow hair, the shape of his face, he seemed kind of familiar… And then it clicked. Toshirou made a motion to move, incensed at the sight of that man. That man that broke into his home that night. His teeth grit as his hand balled into a fist.

Shunsui's hand held him back. "_Chotto matte_, Toshirou-kun. It's not like you to be so rash. You've already given him a black eye; there's no need for another."

"I'm sorry!" The new man fell to the floor, bowing in supplication. His forehead pressed into the tatami mat. "I'm sorry!"

Kyoraku sighed. "_Yare_, _ya-re_, Kira-tan." He grabbed the blond's back and straightened him up. "Please explain to Toshirou-kun before you apologize."

The man's head nodded. "Uh, hai. My name is Izuru Kira and I am of Sereiteri's third district. I am…was... a friend of Gin Ichimaru's. We met about a year ago.

"I wish to be a doctor, and though my family is very affluent, I desire to pay for my education on my own. When I met Gin, he told me of a way to pay for my apprenticeship. A taicho needed someone to write for him and promised to pay well. I was surprised to know that the taicho was from the Black Ships…but Gin coaxed me. I agreed.

"I met…Momo-chan that way," his eyes flashed over to her cousin, unsure if he was allowed to use her name. Toshirou did not interrupt, so he continued.

"At first, everything was fine. Aizen appeared to be a calm, kind man. Gin followed him without hesitation; it convinced me of the power of Aizen's patience and charismatic nature. I willingly provided the things they needed: kimonos for Gin, carriages, letters… Every few days, I would write the letter for Aizen with Gin translating and send them to Momo-chan myself.

"But things became strange… It was Momo-chan's relationship with him. I began to notice her attraction to him and was…happy…for her. But the nature of their courtship was strange to me. I began to think, 'If Aizen is courting Momo-chan, why hasn't he asked her cousin for permission to see her?' and 'Aizen will return to America soon, does he plan to take her with him?'

"When it became clear that Aizen did not plan to do such things, more things came to light. His eyes, at times, held a trace of something…sinister. And, when I returned to them from visiting Ugendo, Gin began to ask questions about your home—detailed questions. Things were too strange and I began to suspect foul play. I wanted to warn Momo-chan, but I feared she would not believe me and push me away. Who would have…looked after her then?"

Toshirou couldn't miss the emotion in his voice when he said that. Kyoraku's eyebrow lifted lazily as he chewed another baozi; he heard it, too.

But if Kira noticed the change in air around him, he ignored it. "I thought it would be strange if I simply made myself known to you with my feelings without evidence, so I came up with the plan to leave you a note of warning…but I did not think that through." He dropped his head again, but not with the earlier franticness, "I ask you for your forgiveness."

The room fell to silence. Toshirou looked at the man bowing towards him with wide eyes. Kira's body shook silently in nervousness.

"Well, Toshirou-kun?" Kyoraku prompted him in the otherwise silent room.

The white-haired boy nodded. "Ah. I accept your apology. Arigato." He lapsed into silence once again. Then,"Kira-san. Do you…know _where_ Aizen is?"

Kira's eyes lowered; he didn't.

"_That_ is the reason I am here." Kyoraku polished off his sake and lifted one finger in the air. He opened one eye lazily and stared at the two younger men. "I am about to tell you something important; what I say cannot leave this room. Yama-jii has made a dangerous decision and if what I say goes out of this room and we should be find out, we all may be dealt the worst punishment by the shogun himself.

"Yama-jii has decided to go against the decisions of the empire itself in regards to the Americans. He plans for a small group of men to make their way to Nagasaki and drive the Americans from Japan. We are to move in secret through the Garganta Pass from Edo to the coast. As the journey occurs, we are to spread the news of our intention in hopes that more men will join the effort. I have been asked to lead the group.

"Kira-tan, you would know more about the red-haired men than any other Nipponese. Your knowledge about them would be immense. And…Toshiro-kun, I would like to put your skills to good use. To have my old apprentice fight by my side would make me feel better…my wonderful Nanao-chan would be less worried about me at the very least."

He stood and looked down, the fancy kimono on his shoulders sweeping the floor slightly; Kira stood too, albeit more clumsily than the ronin. "You do not have to decide immediately; I know there are things that could keep you from joining me." He motioned to the door, intent on visiting the sleeping Hitsugaya and Hinamori-chan before he left.

"I shall return a few days from now. But, ne, Toshirou-kun," Hitsugaya's glance up into the kind face of his teacher, "it would be a waste to not use Hyorinmaru, especially when she tried so hard to get it back."

* * *

"_Shiro-chan, remember this. There are two types of fights. Whenever we are in battle, we must be one of the two. The fight for life or…the fight for pride! When a man fights…He is fighting for his pride! His wife's pride…his men's pride… Most importantly…his own personal pride. Dismiss this as stubbornness…but there will be times when fights are like this…"_

* * *

For the first time in two days, Toshirou stopped sharpening Hyorinmaru. The sound of the sword's metallic ringing faded away and sounds of the irori's fire took over.

Karin was standing at the door of the guest room and staring at him. She was dressed in another borrowed kimono and her bandages looked new, telltale signs that she had been awake for awhile. He mildly wondered why he hadn't been told anything the moment she awoke, but did not pursue the thought; he figured she was behind it. His green eyes watched her walk towards him, the ginger amount of pressure she placed on her bandaged foot for every other step. "Domo," she said when she was close enough to him.

"Domo," the tension and panic built upon his chest lifted and his hands sheathed the katana and placed it on the corner of the bed. Seeing her asleep for so long and now awake were two elementally different things. She was still a bit pale but the same: the bridge of her nose, the shape of her cheek, her eyes and lips, her h—

"Do you like it?" The fingers of her good hand briefly, nervously combed through her ink-black strands. The familiar but damaged mane had been cut just a little bit past her shoulders. He watched her fingers half-comb, half-pull the shorter locks that swept over her left eye and traveled down, mussing her tips into fly-away strands. "Matsumoto cut it for me."

His hand swept from the roots to the tips, feeling the warmth of her skin and tangled locks. He nodded, acquiescing himself to the change.

"Did you sleep well?"

She nodded minutely. "Mm-hmm…I even dreamt a little."

"About what?"

"…My mom…" Her voice trailed off and her eyes avoided his, but her tone didn't make it sound unpleasant.

They fell into silence for a moment, his hand still entangled in the tips of her hair, his eyes focused on her face.

She finally met his gaze. "She told me about Ugendo and Momo…and Aizen." His hand dropped. "And she told me about what you're doing." He lowered himself to the bed and she followed. Their eyes stared ahead at the black and purple-winged butterflies on the paper screens. "When were you going to leave?" The accusing tone he was expecting was almost absent, buried deep underneath her words.

"After you awoke. I planned on telling you myself." Since Kyoraku-sensei's visit, he had spent his time revitalizing Hyorinmaru's dull edge and deciding his course of action. There was no denying that he wanted to go but he decided to wait for her; Toshirou felt it was his responsibility to let her know of his intentions. He would then travel down Garganta himself and meet with his sensei, Kira-san, and any other men who decided to join in another town on the way.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Karin pick at the ragged edge of a piece of gauze wrapped around her hand. The air between them wasn't necessarily heavy and tense between them; it felt more like what happened when a few drops of water touched a fire's flames. He listened to the slight wheeze in her breath, detecting the smell of kenchinjiru from the air of her mouth. The red etchings on the off-white yukata she wore resembled honeycombs and caught his eye against the light blue pattern of his own loaned kimono.

"I don't want you to go after Aizen." There was a quiet _rip_ as her fingers tore at more of the gauze. "I know why you want to, but… I know Momo has her reasons—I do, too. I don't want you to fight for my honor. I chose to go inside Ugendo on my own. I wa—_needed_," _rrrRRRiippp_, "to get Hyorinmaru and Sogyo and the pictures for you." He waited for her lapse of silence to end, watching the servants beyond the room light the hallway candles. It had been their habit to call on him for dinner, but none ventured to walk inside and disturb the two.

"I didn't want you to know how it would feel to lose them after having them for so long." Her arm reached across him, grabbing the Zanpakuto and resting it on her lap. He eyed his katana in its sheath, the lacquer gleaming in the fire's light.

"Arigato," he said in acknowledgement. "But if they had been lost, Kachan and Tochan would have understood. They wouldn't have wanted those events to occur." He slipped her shorn tips between his fingers and held them up to her.

"It's just hair, Toshirou—it'll grow back."

He held up her bandaged hand and didn't fight when she slipped it out of his grasp.

"Matsumoto told me Unohana-san said I'll recover. Your parents gave you those swords and pictures; they're all you have left of them." Her bangs hid her eye from him, but he heard the firmness in her voice.

"My parents did not give me just Hyorinmaru and Sogyo no Kotowari. They and your parents gave us each other." His tongue ran over his teeth in his mouth; he was trying to build up to saying the only thing he had spent the last two days thinking about." And I promised them to protect you from harm…and care for you above all things." He brushed away her offending strands of hair; there was no way she could hide her face from him anymore. Heat radiated from her skin and imprinted itself on his hand.

"…You are very important to me, Karin."

He said the sentence with all intended, unspoken implications. He felt Karin go very still beside him and her hand grip the sheathed Hyorinmaru a little tighter; he wasn't sure if she was breathing but he knew that the weight of his words had sunken into her understanding.

Just as he thought she had somehow become frozen solid, he felt her move. Her gauzed hand pressed on his leg and she cringed a bit, probably feeling the pain the action had inspired. She stood only to near her face closer to his and rested her hands on his shoulders. Toshirou watched her stare at him, at the pucker between her eyebrows and the frustrated, half-disbelieving confusion that traced itself on the corners of her mouth. He held her eyes with the calmest expression he possessed, an echo of his sure, whole-hearted expression.

And then he closed them and let his lips seek hers for a kiss, sweet and slow.

* * *

Karin spent half the night waiting for the inevitable and listening to the deep, soft breathing coming from right beside her. After two days of sleeping and dreaming, she wasn't ready to go back again. And so, she stayed awake and the thought about two things.

She thought about him leaving. Karin knew what she had said to him; however, as steadfast as she was in her feelings, everything she said was with half-hearted intentions. Part of her knew that she really didn't want to stop Toshirou from leaving for Nagasaki. If it were her, she wouldn't want him to stop her and it was that realization alone that kept her from fighting against his decision. The dark-haired girl could only stand by her promise to take care of Matsumoto and Momo and to watch the mill.

But what she really thought the most about was he had said to her earlier…about her being _really important_ to him. As simple and cryptic as the sentence was, she realized she knew Toshirou well enough to understand and it was enough for her. Her mind wasn't letting her forget the look on his face either. She doubted if anyone before had ever seen him so unguarded before…just the thought of his eyes and his lips made her turn red again.

There was only one thing left for her to do: tell him the same.

_If only it were that simple._

It wasn't like the act itself was so hard; she was _ready_ to say it and if it wasn't for everything two nights ago, she would've done so. (Part of her couldn't _believe_ that she let two days slip outside of her fingers like that.)

It was…just…she moment she _did_ say it, he was going to leave. It wasn't like she was going to get "blessings from Mushibi-no-Kami"—she cringed at remembering her father's words—or anything like that. Whatever steps that were going to come after that were going to have to wait. And she didn't want to have to; it just made her think about him leaving again. Despite knowing that her thoughts were causing her to worry too much, her chest tightened a bit when imagining the long walk to Nagasaki. If she wasn't careful she was going to start _crying_ again…

She lay wrapped up in the night, passing the time by staying awake and going back and forth between her thoughts.

The moonlight crossed the floor in its own dance, illuminated everything in its pearly glow. And when Toshirou awoke and moved around, using the now chilled water from a basin to wash his face, dressing in a thick hakama, and sitting on the bed with his back to her, she saw that, too.

She decided to drop the sleeping façade and sat up in the bed.

He looked over his shoulder. "You're awake?"

She nodded. "I slept too much before. Now I really can't."

He nodded and shifted his gaze so he could face the window and the moon directly. The light casted his hair in a silver light and his eyes looked frosted over. Karin stared out the window, too. Shunsui-sensei was going to signal Toshirou when he arrived. The white-haired boy would then grab his belongings, a bundle of clothing tied in a small blanket and Hyorinmaru, and exit from one of the hallway's numerous sliding doors as to avoid waking the main section of the manor and everyone sleeping there.

Karin felt her chest tighten a little more at the thought; it would be happening any time. She was reminded of when she lost her ball that day on the bridge. The oiled-eyed girl recollected feeling like the loss of her ball was the absence of an integral part of herself. That held little comparison to now; trying to measure them against each other was like weighing an apple against an orange.

…She was really missing her orange and it hadn't even left yet.

Thinking about her words made the tightness in her chest creep its way into her throat and stay there. Since when had been so afraid to tell anyone how she felt about anything?

_Since now when my emotions decided to _conveniently_ kick in, _she groused bitterly.

Her eyes watched him bend down to pick up his trusted sword. He pulled it out of its sheath as if to assure himself that it was there. The part where the cross-guard and blade met gleamed at them.

And then very suddenly, they both heard it—a lucid, whimsical whistle, too unnatural at this point in winter when there was no such thing as birdsong in the early morning. He stood quickly, re-sheathed his katana, and grabbed the bundle beside his foot. A muffled musical sound reached Karin's ears—a loaned bag of coins from someone in the midst of his sparse clothing and the bento of onigiri a worker had given him at one point in the night.

She saw him look at her again with that newfound expression, though it was less intense than before. His lips parted to say goodbye and she swallowed the lump that had kept her from saying more than two words. She stepped off the bed and reached her arms out for him, wrapping them around his torso when she got close.

"Toshirou, come back soon." She pressed herself to his back and felt his heartbeat under her bandaged hand. She felt him stiffen a bit and then relax; it was like he was melting in the heat of her embrace. Her lips pressed themselves to the skin of his neck. "Come back soon…because I'm starting to love you, too."

There, she said it.

Emotions be damned.

Bandages be damned.

"I promise," he finally said softly, firmly. It was enough for her. She slowly detached herself from him and felt him slip out of her arms. When he turned and kissed her lips, she closed her eyes automatically, that perfect, balanced, and _whole_ feeling she always felt ending too soon. "Ja ne, Karin."

And like the first time they met on that bridge all those months ago, he left her, stepping outside the Kuchiki mansion and into the night.

_

* * *

_

_A/N: Happy everybody! Because this is the season for giving and because my hiatus has been wayyy too long, I hope that everyone enjoys this new chapter. I am so sorry—apart from the two scenes, everything has been written and typed since October, but I couldn't find the time to dedicate the time to complete it until December. _

_What to say…mmm Byakuya and Kin. Earlier someone said in their review that they liked Byakuya and wanted to see him make a cameo. I hope you this satisfies you. At one point I thought it was kinda funny-weird to put them together, but I slowly realized that Byakuya has a lot of funny-haha moments in the manga like his desire to make Ichigo call him "Kuchiki-san." I think he'd be a pretty cool uncle._

_I liked writing the last two scenes, but they were hard. I kept going back and forth on whether or not Toshirou should say, "I love you." And I realized that while him saying it directly works, it also worked for him to imply the same thing with the phrase, "You're very important to me." I think the most emotionally-charged things he says are sometimes the most cryptic things. And I wanted to stay true to that part of his personality. _

_I felt like Karin's scenes are cool. I think it was good to make her a little unsure about things. I'm glad I ended with her; their whole dynamic feels a bit full circle in that manner. And I'm glad I was able to fit a kiss in there—I was really close to _not _having it. _

_But eh, it's early EARLY morning for me. So enjoy reading and Happy Holidays! _


	10. La LUCHA del León Blanco

**The LOVE that bleached FIRE and ICE**

_An arrangement made at birth finds Karin and Toshiro married to one another. But maybe this might possibly be a good thing…and maybe this might possibly be love. AU KKxTH slight MHxSA_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach._

_AU Warning: Characters can and will appear OOC._

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* * *

**

**Terminology:**

_**The Cero, The Menos, The Arrancar, The Resurrección**_: **My use of these names is historically incorrect. The four ships that arrived into the bay of Nagasaki were **_**The Mississippi**_**, **_**The Plymouth**_**, **_**The Saratoga**_**, and **_**The Susquehanna**_**. **

**Dejima: ****a fan-shaped artificial island in the bay of Nagasaki that was a Dutch trading post during Japan's self-imposed isolation (**_**sakoku**_**) of the Edo period, from 1641 until 1853.**

**Donburi: A bowl of cooked rice with other food placed atop the rice. Oyakodon, a mix egg and chicken, is among the most popular toppings.**

"**I won't take your life…lose consciousness": An actual Aizen quote from the **_**Bleach **_**Universe.**

**Kabuki: ****The highly stylized classical Japanese dance-drama. Kabuki theatre is known for the stylization of its drama and for the elaborate make-up worn by some of its performers.**

**Kishi-Bojin-no-Kami: Japanese Goddess of Children and Childbirth**

**Shunga: Erotic art that sought to express the sexual mores of the chonin in the widest variety of forms possible, and therefore depicted heterosexual and homosexual, old and young alike, as well as a wide range of fetishes.**

**White Lion: I believe that this is a play on Toshirou's name. Don't quote me, but I think that "lion" is in the meaning of his name. (And if some reason you find that it isn't, I think the title's pretty cool regardless.) **

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* * *

_

_Toshirou and Karin escape the fire of the burning Ugendo building virtually unscathed. However, angered at Aizen's attack on his family and home, makes the decision to seek Aizen and kill him, much to the pain of his cousin Momo. Kyoraku-sensei enlists the help of Toshirou and Izuru Kira in the daimyo Yamamato's quest to drive the Black Ships from Japan. Upon the night of Toshirou's departure, Karin wakes from her two-day sleep. Just in time for both to reveal their love for each other…_

_

* * *

_

_The dragon raises_

_its head, its eyes towards the sun._

_Cold air blows fiercely._

**La LUCHA del León Blanco****/The Fight of the White Lion **

It was the voice of his sensei that took Toshirou away from his thoughts of Karin, that made the men crack their masks of feigned drunkenness, the facades placed as a ruse against any prying eye sin the tavern.

"Ne, ne, Lisa-chan," Kyoraku called out in the din of the tavern, Toshirou's eyes, looked over at the waitress standing behind the bar counter, flipping through the pages of her shunga. Half of the tables in the tavern were empty. The men sitting at the table all glanced up from their side conversations.

Her red, bespectacled eyes lifted from her erotic material in boredom. "Whaddaya want?"

"Ne, ne, Lisa-chan," the ronin waved her down with his hand, "can you ask Hiyori-chan to make more oyakodon donburi for the table? And ask for the company of your boss?"

"Fine, fine." Grabbing her booklet, she walked through a door leading to the back. Her disinterested voice was soon drowned out by the sudden sound of the other waitress' angry voice. Toshirou could hear her disinterestedly telling the blonde, freckled waitress to deal with the order. She gave a final shout for the tavern owner before emerging from the kitchens and taking back her spot at the bar.

Toshirou's eyes looked back at the men seated around him. The young man couldn't remember if he had hoped for a larger group of to accompany them throughout their journey, but in looking at the haggard faces in the plentiful, yet weak candlelight, he was grateful for the small, yet strong grouping of men. Any more would have been too much; their ruse would have been exposed.

Starting from his right there was, of course, Kira-san. Beside him sat Shūhei Hisagi from Kakura's ninth district, the one with the scratches on his right eye and a 69 tattoo under his left, from what he told was a sacred number in his family.

Beside him were Ikkaku Madarame and Yumichika, two Kabuki actors from the eleventh district. Toshirou was not present the night the more masculine and bald Ikkaku learned of their intent (however, Toshirou was certain sake had something to do with it; his sensei reeked of it the following morning). Though both addressed in the manner of an equal, eighteen-year-old had held more conversations with the more feminine and vain Yumichika.

A few seats away sat the one with the mangled sword called Kenpachi Zaraki. Zaraki had approached them the same day as Ikkaku and Yumichika, tracking down the inn they were staying in and telling Shunsui that he was going to fight the men. His intentions were clear: he was interested in searching for a good fight in Nagasaki. With the exception of his sensei and Ikkaku, none of the other men said much to him as he was a formidable sight, standing taller than even the former ronin with numerous scars, a perpetual feral grin on his face, and an eye-patch over his right eye.

There were a few more, Shinji Hirako, Kensei Muguruma, Rōjūrō Ōtoribashi, and Love Aikawa, four rice paddy workers Shunsui had approached in a town at the outskirts of Nagasaki and Yasutora Sado, a farmer's grandson. Apart from him, his sensei, and Zaraki, none had weapons of their own. It was unknown if any of them could handle the responsibilities of wielding a katana correctly. But here they were, connected by this one purpose.

The sound of sandals slapping across the floor stopped his thoughts. At the sounds of the footsteps ending at their table, Toshriou's green eyes floated up towards the face of the bar owner. "Oi," she said, her hand on her hip, "you harass Lisa every night. This ain't a brothel."

Shunsui smiled. "I apologize, Shiba-sama."

"And you're always askin' for more food right before Hiyori cleans the kitchen for the night. I'm gettin' tired of hearin' her bitchin'. One month here and ya've cause so much trouble. Ya gonna make me have to impose a rule about that shit."

"Again, I'm sorry. Lisa-chan reminds me so much of my lovely Nanao-chan at home. And Hiyori's cooking is wonderful. I cannot help but to pine for donburi, especially when it reminds me of home. It's been months since I've been home."

She paused, examining the top of the ronin's straw hat. "A _merchant's_ life is lonely, I suppose." She murmured, giving her customer a toothy, knowing smirk.

A twinkle surfaced in the eye of the former samurai as he returned the grin. "Indeed."

"Then allow me to be the ear you need to listen to your woes." The bodies of the men shifted to allow her room to sit down and Toshirou saw his sensei put a small pouch of coins into her palm.

She slipped the pouch of money inside the folds of her yukata, the ink of a tattoo on her chest peeking out from the opening. "This is the last time we're doing this." She mumbled firmly. It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

"Good."

Kukaku Shiba had been Shunsui's informant on the four ships docked right outside her bar Sōkyoku since the night they arrived in Nagasaki. _The Cero_, _The Menos_, _The Arrancar_, and _The_ _Resurrección_. The bar owner had grown up in Nagasaki's red light district with her late elder brother Kaien and younger brother Ganju. A former courtesan and frequenter of Dejima, she one day decided to quit her trade, opening her bar Sōkyoku close-by to the shadow of her former life. It was almost too lucky how helpful she had been, finding katana for those without, keeping them lodged right across their targets, sneaking around for information.

Her hand, the only hand on the only arm she had, tapped on the worn table. "I'm starting to feel guilty having Nel going there to do your own damn dirty work. It worries her brothers."

Kukaku seemed to be the Kishi-Bojin-no-Kami of the harbor, the collector of orphans born and abandoned in the dregs she herself had grown up in. There were her three waitresses, Lisa, Hiyori, and Mashiro; the triplets Nelliel, Pesche, and Dondochakka; the redhead Jinta and the quiet, pigtailed Ururu; her own brother Ganju and his friends.

She snapped for Hiyori to quit her bellyachin' and bitchin' and hurry up with the food. "I don't have to remind you that the ships change their guard at the same time each day. And that most of the men who leave their post come here for food."

"Weapons?" Ikkaku.

She scoffed. "You've seen them—they don't even have coats to guard against the cold. Half of them sleep on my tables waiting for their food, their guard completely open. They don't see a bunch of courtesans, bar owners, fishermen, and _merchants_ as threats. The day their commander left, they took half their arsenal with them."

"The man we're searching for, which ship is he on?" Shunsui.

"Most likely _The Espada_. That's what I wanted to tell you. That ship is now housing protection—Nipponese." She paused as Lisa and Mashiro came to the tables with the warm bowls of rice and chopsticks.

"Oh? That's a new development" Shunsui smiled at the young girls as the bowls were passed and heavy chewing overtook the table. "How many?"

"Ten. Quiet, watching. It's possible they've been there for as long as you've been here, they've just been on a pattern different from yours. From what Nel told me tonight, they carry the look of mercenaries, drifters. All wield weapons. Some have a numbers tattooed on their hand."

"Anyone distinctive?" That was Shinji, his voice rising slightly to be heard over the sounds of chopsticks hitting porcelain tableware.

"Nnoitra Jiruga. Skinny, black hair, eye-patch. Sadistic from the sound of it. The first night Nel's there, she's watching him test if he can cut the American's weapons with his blade. Making bawdy jokes to her about the sailors…among other things."

"How ugly." Yumichika.

She looked over at Zaraki. "I personally think you'll like fighting him."

Zaraki's feral grin widened at the words. The bells placed in his hair jingled as he nodded his head.

"Nel also believes there is a woman among them, too."

"Really?"

Kukaku scoffed. "I think I saw her walking on deck one day on my way back from the market. She wears a cloth over her nose and mouth for whatever reason, but there's no denying a chest that big."

The men, apart from Shunsui, Toshirou, and Yumichika, laughed into their half-full bowls.

"Your swords are all ready for you." She turned her head towards the white-haired male. "What _you_ specifically asked for has been done. Komamura was real surprised you'd ask for something like that when you already have such a beautiful sword. Are ya sure you're gonna be able to handle it?"

Toshirou nodded. "Yes."

Kukaku made a low humming sound. Her eyes stayed on the apple-eyed boy but her voice was for everyone to hear. "And Ururu has sewed lining in your hakama to keep you warm, but you'll probably be sweating so much you'll stay warm. I've never seen a duel or showdown that was pretty. So," she stared at the men at the table, "ya gonna kill 'em?"

"If it has to come to that."

"Good." She pressed her back on the bench, her left arm resting on the back of the booth's bench. "From what you've said, they're bad for the country. But, they're especially bad for business."

* * *

He was dreaming of himself being in the air, of zipping and rushing through the sky. His eyes were full of tears from the wind. Below him was a wasteland of ice, no trees, no water, no land. Just freezing, bleached whiteness. His hands were so cold.

His hands. His hands rested on silver, living ice. He could feel tiny ridges, scales. A heartbeat. A low sound of thunder filling his ears. A growl, a hum.

_**Do you trust me?**_

Hitsugaya looked before him at the winding body of a serpent with large red eyes. The sound of wind gushing and swirling resounded. Toshirou looked up at wonder at the dragon's vast wings.

_**I am Hyorinmaru. Do you trust me to help you defeat this light before you?**_

The voice of the dragon was crushing, engulfing. He looked beyond the dragon's head. A bright light, like the sun, was before him, blinding and blazing. Toshirou watched as they made their way closer.

_**Do you trust me to defeat this light before you?**_

The air that rushed into his mouth almost choked him. "Yes."

_**Do you trust me to protect you?**_

"Yes."

_**Do you trust me to take you home? To the one you love?**_

"Yes!"

_**Then pray for my strength, boy.**_

His freezing hands came together in prayer. "Sit upon the frozen heavens! Hyorinmaru!"

He awoke to the sounds of men snoring and murmuring in a warm sweat. Outside the window of his inn room, small flecks of snow floated down.

* * *

The one with the cover on their nose and mouth, had indeed been a woman.

Her hand slowly pulled away from her chest, covered in the warm liquid of her blood. Her blonde hair plastered to her skin from the sweat and dirty snow did nothing to hide the shock on her face. Her unusually-shaped sword fell from her hand, clanging audibly as it touched the icy wooden deck.

Toshirou's breathing was hard, expelling from his quivering mouth in heavy white puffs. The sharp cold air pierced his chest; the cut she put across his back stung in the freezing air. The grip his hands held on Hyorinmaru hadn't lessened, but the blade was lowered. He was open to harm in the event she decided to attack.

That wasn't likely.

Both knew the cut across her torso was fatal. Her clothing was too saturated with her own blood. It was a wonder she was still standing.

With those green eyes that would haunt his nightmares, the woman named Tia Harribel fell. He didn't watch to see her bowels relieve themselves.

_The Espada _was chaos.

Toshirou and the men had snuck their way onto the ship at the time Kukaku-sama said. The sailors, not expecting the ambush, fell apart, falling overboard into the freezing water at the sight of their swords and rushing off the ship. The few that hadn't been lucky in their escape hid behind boxes and crates; those from the other ships wishing to get onboard and fight were blocked by the confused, screaming crowd of harbor inhabitants.

The mercenaries that Nel saw, the ones with the numbers on their hands, came barreling out from below the deck. Toshirou's eyes searched for Aizen, but watched as the tall, skinny one Nnorita cut through the scrambling bodies of soldiers around him trying to run for cover. Their screams as they fell bleeding, the screams of women and men cheering from the dock, the lull of the ship bobbing in the water, the flurries of snow, the sound of water crashing upon the sides of the ship, it was all too much.

Before he knew it, the men he had traveled with were squared away against their opponents. Sensei with a tall one wearing a fur coat. And Zaraki with the sadistic one, the one Kukaru-sama thought was perfect for him.

He had the one with the cover on their face, the one who introduced herself as Tia Harribel, the woman of the group.

She had been skilled, deadly. Focused. The men running around her, the dips and falls of the ship, nothing affected her. Her footing in those strange shoes was flawless. Her swordsmanship matched his swing for swing.

Her swordsmanship was ruthless. When he had made a mistake in turning, he learned she wasn't above striking from behind. The feel of that strange sword gouging his skin brought tears to the corners of his eyes. He had returned the blows on her arms and sword, as strongly and deeply as he could, but nothing compared to the touch of her blade on him.

But Toshirou had won by a fluke.

He had retreated, begun inching back towards the rail of the ship. Tia Harribel inched after him, the shark cornering the guppy. The side of the ship cradled his bleeding back and she made the move to kill, leaping at him in her strike. The boat suddenly lulled to the side and he dodged, his geta connecting hard against her leg in the process, hard enough for her lose her footing, but not her intent.

There wasn't an alternative strategy for him—just a chance that couldn't be wasted. His hand scooped a bit of dirty snow covering the floor of the deck and threw it into her eyes. Her head whipped back, trying to rid herself of the ice without losing her handle on her hilt.

She had looked away a second too long.

Hyorinmaru bit into her body, the bone of her shoulder through her chest, her heart, her ribs, the lung underneath the bone.

That was the fatal blow.

Toshirou watched as the first person he killed stumbled, the blood spurting out unto the ground. Her robes were crimson; her ample bosom exposed to his eyes.

It was so…immediate.

And now she was dead.

Toshirou had to keep moving. He had to be away from Tia Harribel. He had to deal with his feelings later.

The sounds of metal on metal, screaming and laughter, men with sticks in their mouths cowering and yelling, and the wind in his hair were too much to his ears. He felt the worst pain. He wood trade being punched by Karin 100 times to end the pain, the feel of his blood clotting on his back and . He watched Hisagi-san fight the other captain, Kaname Tosen. The milky look of his eyes were gone, two honey-eyed irises watching the katana the tattooed boy wielded swing for his neck. He saw Kira and Gin. Kyoraku-sensei and his opponent, talking, playing as if this were sparring practice, a game.

A strange gasping sound passed through Toshirou's ears. Off to his right, he saw Shinji. The gangly blonde had fallen to his knees, his sword fallen from his hand. Toshirou watched the color of his robes staining red. Aizen stood over the younger man, clad in a coat as the men hiding around him shook with cold, wiping his blade clean with a cloth.

The fury Toshirou felt almost made his bones freeze.

Almost.

Toshirou's feet raced him to the captain. Forget the wounds, the cold air that chilled him, the people screaming, the people shouting for joy.

He wanted Aizen. He wanted Aizen's blood on the wooden floor.

"Aizen!"

The bespectacled man calmly looked up to see his would-be attacker and guarded himself with his sword before the eighteen-year-old made his first strike.

"Oh?" The captain's eyebrow lifted slightly. "I did not expect to see you here, Hitsugaya-sama."

"I came here to kill you." Toshirou relented and sideswiped, aiming for Aizen's side. Again, he was blocked.

"Ahh." This was said as if Aizen understood all. "Then I shall stop you."

"Toshirou!" That was Kyoraku yelling, looking away from his own opponent. "Toshirou, move! You're too weak; he'll kill you!"

"On the contrary. I will not take your life. With the measure of power you possess you are an unlikely even to lose consciousness." I will, however try to stop you. If you die, then so be it."

Aizen's sword moved too closely to Toshirou's sternum. Just sound of it slicing the air let the eighteen-year-old know that had his opponent been serious, the wound would have been deadly.

Toshirou, just as quickly has he had attacked, found himself on the defensive, walking away from the captain's assault. The teeth of his geta slid across the deck, through the thickening rise of snow, as Aizen's blade lifted and fell for his body, his neck. His breathing became more and more ragged. Around him, the sailors cheered, fully loyal to their commanding officer. A torrent of sweat dampened his snow-white hair. The pain across his back sharpened further and further with his exertion. He couldn't find an opening in Aizen's hand work.

There were so many disadvantages he had: Aizen was more experienced; his fighting style was unfamiliar; he was wounded; he was tired from the previous fight. Usually, Toshirou could make up a strategy, but it was apparent that Aizen was three steps ahead of him.

_**Do you trust me to defeat this light? To protect you?**_

Hyorinmaru's tip cut into the cuff of Aizen's jacket.

_**Pray for my strength, boy.**_

Toshirou retreated, hid behind a crate. He couldn't stop gasping for air, his hand wouldn't stop rattling. But in the midst of that ship, where people hid and others fought and laughed in the joy of their fight, he stared at the blood drying on the tip of Hyorinmaru.

Snowflakes fell on his black eyelashes.

_**My strength, boy.**_

Toshirou's lips moved and uttered the familiar line from his childhood bedtime stories.

"Sit upon the frozen heavens, Hyorinmaru."

Footsteps approached the side of the crate. The green-eyed boy shifted his position, inching around the crate's perimeter until he was safely on the other side of the wooden box. The shaky grip he had on his hilt tightened, was finally steady and sure.

There would be no more fear in his hands anymore. No retreating.

He emerged, Aizen's back to him. The wavy brown-haired man felt the movement and countered. Toshirou swung his sword, looking for his mark, the last mark he wanted to make in order to win.

Left.

Left, left, left.

Miss, miss, miss.

Aizen, dodging, dodging, dodg—.

Right.

_Riippp!_

Hitsugaya ripped into his coat sleeve. A longer sliver of blood ran across Hyorinmaru's edge. Aizen's smile tightened.

Toshirou's eyes narrowed in concentration, intimidation. He was just getting started. He struck relentlessly, his foot constantly switching and moving. The emerald-eyes watched Aizen as the captain did the same.

_I just need an opening._

Karin, when they played soccer, she had had a technique to get an opening.

He was struck with images of the times they played soccer, all those months ago, and she would work throw him off his equilibrium for a point. Her stoic face stared at him analyzing her, the repetitious movement of her legs leading him into that false self-security. It was like watching a fire sputter into life, trying to decide to hold and burn. The way she had surprised him, made him stop in his tracks, and then took the advantages she wanted.

He was always envious of that move. He could never forget it whenever she tricked him with it.

Left, left, lef—quarter-turn.

Aizen's head swiveled. In waiting for the move that Toshirou wasn't going to repeat, the eighteen-year-old had shifted positions on him.

_Now!_

Toshirou's free hand reached into the lining of his robes and pulled out what he had asked for: a long metal chain with a moon crescent on its end. His wrist flicked and the chain went wrapping itself around Aizen's fighting hand. The crescent moon sliced into his wrist, the blood its wielder had wanted to see so badly being drawn. Toshirou hooked the side of the chain he held to the purple fabric around his hilt and pulled hard, dragging Aizen across the snow.

He thought he saw the sanguine captain's façade of coolness fade for a minute, but confirming if that was true didn't matter. Because Aizen did exactly what he wanted to captain to do: he resisted against his captor.

Toshirou turned the tip of Hyorinmaru, the sword his father made him, the sword that held the story of his family, towards his opponent. He extended his leg and crouched, grabbing for the chain and wrapping it around his arm, shortening the length between himself and the man who had _dared_ to threaten his family. When he thought he was close enough, Toshirou shifted his weight in the three-inch layer of snow and ran forward.

There were so many things that could go wrong in this second, there were so many things Aizen could try to do to counter his strike. A simple movement could leave his hand hanging on the bone of his wrist, but could position the eighteen-year-old's sword towards a less-vital part of his body.

_**Do you trust me to take you home? To the one you love?**_

_Yes._

He watched as Aizen moved his wrist deeper into the sharp end of the crescent and his sword shift to meet Toshirou's chest. Toshirou continued rushing forward.

Hyorinmaru's blade gleamed.

And he saw Karin's face that night he told her of his true feelings.

The tip of Aizen's blade ripped through his clothes and touched his skin.

_

* * *

_

_A/N: And after six months, I am back. I am so sorry to everyone who has read this fanfic. I wanted to write this chapter, I really did, but life completely came in and swallowed up all my free time. Writing this chapter has actually been a very long, very hard week-long process. I have had to reacquaint with the characters as I've built them, I've had to remember how I wanted everything to go and flow. I feel like this is going to be the one of the last chapters for this fanfic. I've refused to give up on writing this because that makes me so angry when others do that, but I can't drag it out anymore._

_But moving on. Like I said, I like this chapter. I'm very happy I was able to incorporate some of my favorites from the Gotei 13, the Vizards, the Espada, Jinta and Ururu, and Kukaku and Ganju and his friends into the story. I was worried about that fight on __The Espada_. _ That is the second fight scene I've written so I feel like it's a little weak; it got really poetic when I was writing it. Ah, well. The dream sequence was something that had come to me after a short bout of writer's block. I really like Hyorinmaru and Hitsugaya's relationship in the manga/anime so having this dream where they interact was good. Why Aizen is the light, I can't explain. The last section was cool; Karin's soccer technique and the chain (which is actually part of Hyorinmaru in Shikai mode) were things that I made up/remembered a few hours ago._

_But anyway, enjoy. R&R. _


	11. BALANCED

**Thank you for all of the encouragement you've shown me with this. I hope you like this final chapter!**

**The LOVE that bleached FIRE and ICE**

_An arrangement made at birth finds Karin and Toshiro married to one another. But maybe this might possibly be a good thing…and maybe this might possibly be love. AU KKxTH slight MHxSA_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach._

_AU Warning: Characters can and will appear OOC._

**

* * *

**

**Terminology:**

**Amanatto: **A Japanese traditional confectionery that is made of azuki beans or other beans, covered with refined sugar after simmering with sugar syrup and drying. Again, it's Toshirou's favorite food (however, when I mentioned it in "MELTING Wall PREAMBLE," I meant the actual beans.)

**Black robes and hakama: **My use of this is actually inaccurate. At the time of this story, white robes would have been considered to be proper protocol for a funeral; the appearance of black robes has only become acceptable in contemporary Japan.

**Chopsticks: **During the cremation of a loved one, the family uses chopsticks to pick the bones of the deceased to put in the urn. While everyone receives their own chopsticks, some use one pair (apparently, this is the only time when two people sharing chopsticks is acceptable).

**Daffodil:** The flower of the 10th Division.

**Fireworks: **From Bleach's 12.5 omake chapter where Hitsugaya's birthday was celebrated with fireworks courtesy of Matsumoto.

**Fusuma: **The correct term for Japanese sliding doors.

**Haka:** The proper name for the grave where the deceased family member's remains are kept. The headstone usually bares the names of the members of the family that have passed.

**Hyroid bone: **A horseshoe-shaped bone situated in the anterior midline of the neck between the chin and the thyroid cartilage; it is the only bone in the human skeleton not articulated to any other bone. This is considered the most important bone to be placed in an urn.

**Izanami-no-Kami, Enma-no-Kami, shinigami: **the various gods of death in Japanese mythology.

**Kakejiku: **Decorativepaintings and a staple of traditional home décor in Japan.

**Tokonoma: **A place in the wall where books, flowers, and other items are placed for decoration.

**Ukiyo-e: **Japanese woodblock prints.

**Yuki-onna: **A very popular figure from Japanese folktales. Thought to be the spirit of a person who perished in the snow, she usually appears as a beautiful woman. In the past, she was known for luring people to their death during snowstorms; now she is portrayed in a more positive light.

_

* * *

_

_And fire and ice meet,_

_between two plains, the lovers_

_reunite again._

**

* * *

**

**BALANCED**

"Karin? Karin?" Matsumoto peeked closely at the eighteen-year-old chewing her bottom lip and staring off into space. Her face had a growingly familiar distant look to them again and she didn't indicate that she had heard her name called. The strawberry-blonde's brow wrinkled worriedly.

"Karin!" From across the room, Ichigo tried to bring his little sister out of her ruse with his voice. Kin was in his arms, reaching his hands out towards his daddy's face. With his amber eyes, he pleaded for Matsumoto to try again.

"Karin? Karin!" She shook the black-eyed girl slightly.

That did it. Karin's flinch caused her tooth to bite into her bottom lip, drawing blood. "Ow! _What_, Matsumoto?"

Matsumoto gave her a smile that was wry at the corners. "You were daydreaming again. You haven't done anything to that manuscript since you opened it to that page."

Karin stared confusedly at her and then down at the paper. As if she was just looking at it for the first time. It was true; her brush and ink were ready and the manuscript was still in front of her, but it was free of any markings or corrections. The look she gave to her brother and the buxom blonde was like that of a guilty child.

"I was going t—"

"Karin." Ichigo murmured, lifting his four-month-old above his head and then dipping him close to the floor. Kin's kicked his legs out and his little mouth made happy gurgling sounds. "Why don't you go on your walk around the manor to clear your head?"

"Yes! Good idea! Your walk will calm you down enough to concentrate on the manuscript." Matsumoto nodded in agreement at the suggestion.

Karin stared at them again for a solid minute before leaving the shelter of the kotatsu and straightening her dark-blue kimono. Wordlessly, she walked outside into the hallway, feigning the sounds of her retreating footsteps. She craned her ear towards the sitting room. She waited for them to talk about how worried they were about her. But apart from the sounds of them playing with the baby, they didn't say anything. Karin crept away.

The beautiful kakejiku on the walls and bowing, harried house attendants passed Karin in a blur as she walked along the corridors of the Kuchiki Manor. Taking her walk now would've been beneficial, but for some reason she didn't bring herself to care: her breathing was fine today; she hadn't had a coughing fit yet and it was almost dinner time. The snow wouldn't help her mood anyway.

Her feet made their way down the hallways before finally stopping in front of the doors of her guest room. Her hands parted the fusuma and she walked inside. There on the tokonoma lay the mount Bya-sama had provided for her. Sogyo no Kotowari rested in the confines of the mount Bya-sama had provided for her. The eighteen-year-old neared the Zanpakuto and kneeled in front of it, resting her arms on the wooden table top.

A puff of hot air escaped her lips and her bangs flitted up, disturbed with the rush of wind.

February. Four months since the night Toshirou left.

With Ugendo gone, Bya-sama had provided his empty rooms to his sister-in-law and her husband's assistant and cousin. His servants had finally stopped gossiping about it in the corners of the manor corridors. And Yorichi-san had finally stopped questioning her about his disappearance, her yellow eyes always gleaming knowingly at her.

The survival of the mill meant they were still in business; everything she was learning about making orders and distributing books was thanks to Matsumoto, Kotestu, and Kotsubaki.

Ugendo's life-long servants and friends and colleagues of Toshirou's father she hadn't met at the wedding were constantly contacting her, giving their sympathy and tokens: kimono, zori and geta, pottery, ukiyo-e, "American commodities." She was always trying to decline—there wasn't really that much room for the gifts in the manor—but they always insisted and she couldn't be rude.

Her family was supportive enough through their constant presence and encouragement. Yuzu and Beard-o visited once a week. And there was her older brother and sister-in-law. If any of them thought badly about Toshirou's disappearance, they didn't say anything about it in front of her.

Still, she hadn't thought it was going to be so hard. She understood that he couldn't write to tell her where he was or even alive. That wasn't the problem.

But there were still so many problems.

Momo. Karin suspected that amongst the people who were confused and surprised to find that Toshirou had disappeared that morning, his cousin was somehow not in the dark about everything and the effects of knowing had taken their toll on her. It was as if the cheery girl that Karin knew in August had withered away and left behind the shell of her former self. The first month, she wouldn't stop crying herself sick. Her cousin-in-law could be sitting, talking to Rukia, or painting, and the tears would start flowing. She was so much quieter now.

Karin knew the right thing to do was to help and support her, but she couldn't bring herself to put any effort into it. She knew why Momo was acting the way she was; she had heard her enough times in the dead of night sobbing, hiccupping, and murmuring "Aizen" and "Toshirou" back and forth, over and over. The black-eyed girl couldn't understand how a man the brown-eyed girl hadn't known for even half a year had wormed his way under Momo's skin like that; it made her pissed to know that she was still caught between being loyal to her family and that _sociopath_.

Her hand twirled Sogyo's red cord around her fingers before gripping one of its hilts. She ignored the sudden crescendo of whispers and footsteps outside her door; the servants were always making themselves busy. She blinked sleepily.

Yet, despite how she felt about Momo's behavior, a tiny part of her could understand. It wasn't like she was acting normal either.

She missed him. Things about him. She had been feeling a bit…unbalanced without him and it kept manifesting itself in different ways. At points of the day, like in the sitting room just now, her mind was wandering to thoughts about him and her together. And all of a sudden, she had gained a taste for natto; she had asked for it so much in the past few weeks that the manor cooks always had a plate of it ready for her. The announcement of a guest always made her heart squeeze a bit; there wasn't a moment that she didn't think it was someone who came just to tell her the news she had been dreading.

They had tried celebrating his birthday in December without him. Matsumoto had bought and set off the fireworks just like they apparently did every year. But the first time the fireworks went off, Momo had matched the explosions, bursting into tears and having to excuse herself. The second time, Matsumoto had to leave, too; she didn't even drink the sake she had proffered from the Kuchiki kitchens. That pretty much left Karin to light up and stare at all the colors alone.

And lately, she had been having strange dreams: two large silver fishes; dragons; oceans and mountains and grassy plains and large trees; of skeletons and ghosts; of snow and daffodils. And him, especially him. Almost always him. Nothing in the dreams particularly bothered her, skeletons and ghosts notwithstanding, but the absence of fear didn't stop her from waking up in the middle of the night and waiting again for sleep to overtake her. She was always thinking about kissing him.

Tears of fatigue pooled at her eyes as she gave a great yawn.

The world outside the room was still active, but what had been a great buzzing before had become a hum. It was better for her to go back and work, if she stayed awake it would be that much harder to sleep at night, but she couldn't bring herself to move. A part of the black-haired girl wished someone would come and force her out of her enervated condition, but Ichi-nii and Matsumoto probably figured she had taken a nap and weren't going to disturb her.

Her hand reached out from the sleeves of her kimono and touched Sogyo's red hilt gently. "Sogyo, you'll bring him back right?" She murmured and closed her eyes on the edge of sleep.

A knock on the door snapped her awake.

Her hands rubbed her eyes, combed her bangs, straightened her kimono. She almost thought she had imagined the sound, it was suddenly so quiet outside, but then the knock came again. "Hai, hai!" she said to the third round of knocking. She ambled to the sliding doors, thinking it was Yuzu and Dad, and slid one of them open.

"I had been sle—"

She was suddenly wide awake. That grip she felt in chest was almost deadly but not as painful as it had become.

He was standing right in front of her, wet with the snow, haggard, his arm in a sling, Hyorinmaru on his back. Karin belatedly thought of Yuki-onna appearing and disappearing in the snow. Maybe she was dreaming.

But the way he looked at her, that frozen stare he usually gave that slowly melted away as they stood in the door's threshold…

"Toshirou."

"Karin."

"You came back."

* * *

The nineteen-year-old felt that his being alive was only an act of the kami.

He remembered trapping and charging at Aizen, Hyorinmaru in hand, and the blood coming from the captain's wrist as he pressed against the sharpened crescent and chain. Toshirou remembered the sword cutting his skin open.

The very last second, Toshirou had shifted, letting his enemy cut across his skin into his sternum where his collar bone met his arm joint. He remembered the warm feeling of his newly-shed blood saturating his robes and clenching his jaw.

But it was Hyorinmaru that had made the fatal strike into Aizen's chest, right through his heart.

The two fighters stood there on the snow-ladden deck of _The Espada_, panting in pain and death, feeling Izanami-no-Kami and Enma-no-Kami and the shinigami standing at their sleeves, waiting to see which of them would fall first.

Toshirou made the decision of death for them, twisting Hyorinmaru in Aizen's ribcage, watching the captain's eyes growing cold, and using his foot to free his Zanpakuto from the corpse's body. He remembered seeing him die. He remembered the effort had blackened his vision at the corners.

He didn't remember passing out.

He didn't remember them escaping the ship or being carried back to Sōkyoku. He wasn't conscious to see the bar's meat locker being converted into an operating room or their old table rubbed down with alcohol and made into the operating table. He didn't remember the doctor Hachigen Ushoda sewing the ragged ten-inch incision in his chest or the poultices. He didn't remember hearing Kira praying or seeing Kyoraku-sensei overlooking the operation with worried eyes or feeling Ururu place cold cloths on his head and force-feeding him soup to fend off the fevers.

For three days, he dreamt of plains of snow, of black butterflies flying around him, of Touchan and Kaachan, of killing Aizen, and a woman with wavy, light strawberry-hair who kept smiling at him. He dreamt of Karin riding on Hyorinmaru's back, glowing like an ember with her black hair and kimono sleeves billowing out around her and beckoning him with open arms. He dreamt of running to her.

When he finally awoke, he couldn't feel anything but pain in his right arm. "A clean cut into his shoulder that would take months to a year to heal," is what Hachigen had told him.

His arm was in a sling, but he was alive.

Leaving Nagasaki had been difficult. The police and some of the shogun's men had come into Nagasaki searching for the men that had killed the American captains. Every time he looked up, it seemed Shiba-san was been harassed by "humble visitors."

It had taken two weeks for them to leave Nagasaki in the dead of night with only moonlight as their guide. That was on the morning of his birthday.

Then were the funerals for Shinji and Sado-san. Both services had been small with Love, Kensei, and Rojuro as Shinji's family and the grandfather as Sado-kun's, but the process was the same: wakes, cremations, their black robes and hakama, money for the deceased, chopsticks, and picking the ashes for the hyoid bone, the haka, the incense and the week-long memorial services.

Toshirou did all these things, moving at his sensei's pace, staying in han after han every few days, quickly enough to get back to Karakura, but slowly enough so that they wouldn't cause suspicion.

And now, here he was. He'd bypassed all of the Kuchiki Manor servants and Matsumoto, Momo, and the others.

And here she was, in a new kimono, looking the same she always had, the same way she had looked like in his dreams. For a second, she looked at him with her mouth agape and pale, as if she was seeing a ghost. But slowly, her warm color came back to her cheeks.

"Toshirou."

He felt himself getting better with just the sound of her voice.

"Karin."

"You came back," her face was in shock, her eyes glassy.

"Ah." He stepped closer to her, feeling the heat of her skin as her hand lifted to touch his cheek. The smallest of smiles crossed his lips.

Anything between them, however, was going to have to wait as a sharp, happy scream reached their heads. There was no mistaking it.

"Hitsugaya-sama!"

_Matsumoto._

* * *

Much to their surprise, the celebration that Matsumoto had demanded hadn't lasted as long as they expected. Byakuya had left first, citing his desire to let "Hitsugaya-san enjoy his time with his family." Ichigo and Rukia left next, their adorably sleeping four-month-year old in tow. Matsumoto had reached her limit with the sake and Momo volunteered to carry her back to her room.

With no one left to disturb them, they went back to the room. And talked, sleep being nothing but an afterthought for them. Her right shoulder and his left shoulder pressed against one another.

Toshirou told her of his travels, of his fight with Tia Harribel, of killing Aizen, his arm, the funerals, and dreams.

Karin talked about the manuscripts she had been reading, of all the visits and gifts that were taking up space in the manor rooms, of Momo.

His eyes grew cold in the dim light as he listened to stories about her crying and depression. "She knew I was leaving; I told her. I didn't know she was going to act like that." His voice was heavy with guilt and a bit of anger.

Neither of them wanted to dwell on it in the dead of the night, not when they were back together and there was tomorrow.

Karin's hand sought and found his in the weak firelight. Toshirou gave her a brief squeeze and relaxed.

The Zanpakuto rested on the tokonoma, the father and child's swords back together.

There were so many things they had to do.

Rebuild Ugendo.

Thank Kuchiki-sama for his hospitality and thank people for the gifts.

Come up with something to throw off Yorichi-sama from his months of disappearance.

Visit his touchan and okaachan; visit her mother.

Talk to Kyoraku-sensei.

Call for Kira-san.

Watch Momo. Put her broken pieces together.

"Toshirou."

He tore his eyes away from the katana in the corner and stared at her. Her hand had left his grasp for his shoulders. Her coal-black eyes looked glassy. That ebony hair of hers rested on her shoulders, her bangs falling over her eye. His good hand reached up to brush the rebellious strands; his hand felt warm with her heat.

"Karin." Her name was more like a whisper in the air. He returned the full stare she gave.

The smell of him, the feel of her, grew stronger as they got closer and closer. She was trying to be strong enough to hold her weight and not lean on him and he was striving to be strong enough for her to be closer with feeling like he was fragile. Her torso reached along his lap and eventually, after one millennium, their lips connected.

Everything wrong seemed better.

The hairs on the back of their necks rose and both placed butterfly touches on the others' skin.

The cold he felt within himself, the chill that had been around since Nagasaki and even when he had walked into the Kuchiki Manor with him died a little, leaving him feeling warmer.

The anxiousness that had been burning inside her because he had been gone died a little within her.

Their heartbeats grew stronger in their ears as their lips melded. Neither wanted to let go, not when they felt the sense of balance they had been missing was restored.

There was no more fire; there was no more ice.

There was only them.

"_I love you..."_

* * *

_(One Year Later)_

Toshirou didn't hide the fact he was worried. "Oi, are you sure you're okay?"

Karin gave him a sharp look, slightly annoyed with the conversation. "I told you 'yes' already."

The look he gave showed he didn't believe her. It was always said amongst those who knew them that Hitsugaya-sama, who couldn't help but to remind everyone of winter mornings and storms, always seemed to "defrost" whenever his wife was around. Karin had been sick for a few days now and even though she said she was fine and she always _seemed_ to get better as the day wore on, her expressions of weariness and something else he couldn't place made him watch her closely.

She grabbed his hand and squeezed reassuringly. Her face softened into the same soft tone her brother and father said they saw whenever she was with her husband. "Toshirou, I'm _fine_. I promise. It's just this stupid American coat is heavy. Let's go." She smiled.

He nodded, satisfied for the moment, and the two half-walked, half-ran through the snow in their geta and heavy coats, reaching their destination.

The twenty-year-old loosened his grasp and stepped forward to the haka with a solemn bow. "Touchan, Okaasan, Granny," he addressed the three names on the bottom of the Ukitake family grave. The arm of his silver kimono, the one with the crabs crawling away from waves of the beach on the sleeve, gestured to their daughter-in-law. "This is Karin Histugaya, the girl you arranged that I marry."

She approached the tombstone in her cream-colored kimono, her favorite one with black, gold, and red stars on the hem and sleeves, and bowed. "Domo." The ribbons and flowers she endured having placed in her hair played in the early, chilly January wind.

"I'm sorry it took us so long to come." They were quiet for awhile and then Karin spoke.

"We've rebuilt Ugendo."

The house they had commissioned to be built last spring had finally been finished a few weeks before the first snowfall. It wasn't as large its predecessor, but it had everything they needed. They were hoping that the lawn would grow in a few months, during spring. They wanted the flowers and the grass back and neither of them wanted to get rusty with their skills; Karin was still the champion, leading by three victories.

"Aizen, the one who destroyed Ugendo…" Toshirou's utterance of the name brought out a cool wind of his anger. "I…killed him for threatening our family."

Almost two years later, now that Karin's breathing couldn't be better and Toshirou could finally use his writing hand, there were still nights when the white-haired boy would jolt awake, haunted by the wavy-haired, smirking captain. Sometimes he saw Tia Harribel, other times _The Espada_ and the chaos of Nagasaki harbor. He knew his actions had been for the best intentions; he wanted them to know that he had protected everything dear to them, to let them know he had defeated the Hollow that had haunted their lives, like the stories said his ancestor had once done.

In the end, it was hard to say if the actions of he and the men he had traveled with to Nagasaki had accomplished anything. Shunsui-sensei, for all his dislike for politics, never deigned to discuss the subject when they visited. It seemed their attack on one of their ships hadn't stopped the Americans from coming back or life in Japan from becoming harder and harder. The Red-Haired men were powerful and Nippon had been suffering: prices were rising and the number of the poor was starting to increase throughout the streets more and more each day. Things were being taken away or sold to traders before the people themselves. The little that the lucky were able to buy was poor in quality. The people were constantly demanding answers from the Shogun and more and more, the people were getting violent.

Toshirou thought about his meeting with Chojiro Sasakibe, an American who was looking to do business with the young mill owners. He was promising many things—Western technology, an equal percentage of the profit among others—and the three of them were slowly seeing the other benefits of a possible partnership. But as Karin had put it to him the day before, all she really wanted to do was "publish Japanese authors to the Japanese and maybe reprint and resell copies of _Rejection of the Twin Fishes!_ for kids." As far as working with Sasakibe went, the decision was being placed in his hands.

"Okaasan, Momo is getting married to a man named Izuru Kira. He's a doctor's apprentice. He asked me for my blessing a few months ago, and I have given it to him."

Karin chuckled a bit. "Momo agreed before he could even finish asking her."

The courting of quiet Kira and sweet Momo had almost been a strange sight to witness. Karin, who reluctantly let Matsumoto drag her the first day he visited to eavesdrop, was pretty surprised to see her cousin-in-law had taken to Kira so soon after she had been depressed about Aizen. She could remember the brown-eyed girl blushing furiously at the pale blond apologizing and bowing to her for forgiveness. From the cups of tea they shared at her insistence, it was obvious to see that Kira-san cared deeply for Momo.

It was great to see that the feelings had been returned. Both were pretty happy see the sparkle return to their cousin's eyes in the months following. All Momo talked about sometimes was Kira-san, blushing prettily at her memories of them taking walks and going to festivals together. The fish he had won for her at one of the booths were still healthy and greeted all visitors and business partners when they first entered the newly-built compound.

"And Matsumoto is…herself." The green-eyed boy deadpanned.

Of course, that couldn't have been a surprise. If she wasn't disappearing from work at all points of the day, she was teasing Momo about her blush that made Kira witness the "beauty and purity of a young woman turned into a bride-to-be." It was a wonder that Momo had agreed to let the blonde oversee the wedding plans. (It was an even bigger surprise that things hadn't blown up in their faces yet.)

Toshirou stared at the kanji of his family etched in the headstone. His hand grabbed Karin's once more. "We want to thank you. Karin and I. The two of us…we're really happy."

He made a motion to say something else, but was interrupted by the ebony-haired girl at his side. "Toshirou," Karin whispered loudly, "I have to—" her voice faded.

Questioning green eyes slid over to look at nervous black ones. He panicked a bit. "Are you feeling okay? Do you want to go back to the carriage?"

"No, no. I have something to tell…all of you." She took a deep breath and exhaled. "Jushiro-san, Megumi-chan, we have been happy, just the two of us. But…I don't think it's going to be just the two of us anymore." Karin watched as Toshirou's eyes widened. "I think I'm pregnant."

He was at a loss for words. "Wha—? When? How long?"

"Two weeks."

_Two weeks?_ They had only moved from kissing on the mouth to the strongest forms of intimacy only a few months ago, when Toshirou had been given a clean bill of health by Unohana-san. The two of them were only just used to pressing their lips on each other's bare skin, tangling their fingers in each others' hair, and moaning and whimpering each others' name.

But now, her being sick at dawn and exhausted throughout the day made sense. And the thing he had seen but couldn't place, her pregnant _glow_…it was so clear.

He was imagining nine months from now, of a boy or a girl with green eyes and black hair. Or white hair and black eyes. Or brown hair like Yuzu's with brown eyes like Kurosaki-san's. Or white hair with honey-colored eyes like his touchan's.

Or twins.

"Toshirou?"

He snapped back to the present. Karin was waiting for him to say something, her expression anxious. "Is that okay? Are you happy about it?"

He gave her the genuine smiled he saved only for her and drew her near, contouring himself into the side of her body. He nuzzled his nose against the curve of her cheek and into the crook of her neck. He felt the color rushing to her face warm her cheeks.

"I'm very happy, Karin." He whispered huskily in her ear.

The smile she gave only lasted for a second; her inner peace was broken with the realization of something important. A growl rose from the back of her throat. "Urgh, this just means that Beard-o is going to tease us about finally giving him another grandchild. Remember? He did that 'Happy Pregnancy Blessing Dance' when Ichi-nii and Rukia told him about their second pregnancy!" Her face relieved the horror—the annoying horror.

He cringed internally. For a second, he had forgotten about his eccentric father-in-law dancing around Kuchiki-san's dining room. Or Kuichiki-san's face of extreme irritation at having the tranquility of dinner interrupted by the foolishness of the doctor. Only the year-old Kin had enjoyed the performance, clapping his hands and babbling to match his grandfather's singing.

"You're going to have to punch him for me when we tell him the news." She sobered. "At least our baby will have a cousin the same age. And Kin to protect them."

"Mmm-hmm." Toshirou pulled away from the smell of her skin. A cold breeze ripped through them, making Karin shiver.

"I want to tell my mom now."

"Okay."

The two of them bowed at Toshirou's loved ones once more before continuing on their way in the snow, warmed by their intertwined fingers and full hearts.

_

* * *

_

_A/N: And that is the end. I'm so happy that I finished it! This seriously started as me being just so inspired by GrnEydDvl's "On the Wrong Foot" that I had to write a fanfic of my own. And now look, my own fanfic! Thank you so much for sticking with this thing. I hope that you enjoy it and if you haven't reviewed, do so. R&R makes my life better!_

_Umm…so this was kind of fun. The dreams that Karin and Toshirou had stemmed from the little information I have about the post-modern, anime/manga-inspired Superflat Movement in Japan (look that up, cool stuff). At the time I was writing this, I had wanted to give Momo and Kira's first meeting after Aizen's death its own scene but in the end, I decided not to; the last scene was really going to be the epilogue, it was going to tie up loose ends, and I was determined to make it just my main characters in the scene. _

_Speaking of death scenes, I hope that everyone is satisfied with the conclusion to the Toshirou/Aizen fight. I got some very emotional feedback about the end of the last chapter—which is good, I swear! But no, I wasn't going to kill him; I like Toshirou too._

_So what's next? I've been between Hey Arnold! and Alice in Wonderland/Looking Glass and What Alice found there am leaning on the latter. I have also decided it's gonna be M because after two "T"-rated stuff (this and "Queen of Hearts, Redux" for Teen Titans), I want to write a lemon. My first fanfics were lemons; it's cool to go back if only through another venue. Or I might do Hey Arnold! HA! helped me through my final college semester as stress relief. And when I learned that there was supposed to be a movie where he finds his parents? Oh, my interest is piqued. Maybe both at the same time? Dunno. PM your thoughts._

_Anyway. Thank you for reading and your support._


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